Trial and Error
by Dark Hope Assassin
Summary: Trial 15: In which they are both still young, blood boiling in their veins, both a bit too opinionated and pig-headed, so of course sometimes their characters clash. And, sometimes, those clashes are violent. (AoMomo, 100 Situations)
1. Taste of Defeat

Daiki stared wide-eyed, disbelieving at the scoreboard in wake of the blaring whistle signalling the end of the match. Ever since the appearance of Seirin's new light-and-shadow team, he'd had some trouble coming up on top of every match.

This was the first time he had outright _lost_, though.

So he stared and stared at the glaring red numbers, as if willing them to change to a more desirable result.

They didn't.

Sweat was coming out of his every pore. His mind was reeling. His blood was still rushing in his veins, urgent, desperate for winning and coming somewhat short. Every muscle in his body ached, abused and pushed to its very limit, and still just not enough. He had been so annoyed, so hurried, so overwhelmed by the match that he had the mother of all headaches.

The Touou ace felt his captain's pat on his shoulder, the senpai's words registering just barely in his mind. Daiki didn't care for the idiot's attempt at consoling him. He didn't care for being told they'd played a good match. He _knew_ they had.

They should have won.

But they didn't.

Had he really done his best? Was this really as good as he got? Was it really possible for people like Seirin's team to best him at his own game?

For the first time in forever, Daiki could say that he felt _tired_ after a basketball match. He hadn't felt this way even after the first Inter-High match against Kise. He hadn't felt that way in forever.

As he came towards the benches, brows knitted and temper seething, he was met by his childhood friend and team manager, who was holding a towel in her hands. Her face was fixed into an unreadable look, but there was a tiny, reassuring and slightly apologetic smile quirking her mouth's corners as she offered him the terry cloth.

"You did great, Aomine-kun," she told him in a calm, low tone.

He huffed ill-temperedly and plopped down on the bench as he rubbed the sweat from his face away with the towel he'd taken from her.

She sat down quietly next to him while the rest of the team gathered as well.

"Let's win next time."

Her words are spoken so softly and closely to him that he knows they are intended only for him to hear. He almost huffs again because to him it seems like his teammates need more "cheering up" and pep talk than he does.

He refrains from reacting instinctively. He restrains the huff and smiles to himself instead.

He's tired and sore and annoyed but he knows that next time they'll do better. They'll be better.

He knows because Satsuki has never failed her team, and neither has he.

And because, finally, there's someone who can stand equally against him on the court.

Finally, basketball has become interesting again.

* * *

A/N: I have only watched the anime so any inconsistencies with the manga stem from the fact a lot of things I say will be the result of my own deduction and creation. I apologize for that in advance.

100 Situations, Table One; 001: Tired.

_3rd February, 2013._


	2. Rejection

She stood there, staring blankly, for the longest of times. She didn't even know how long she'd just been there, gaping at nothing in particular.

Did it even matter?

How could _anything_ even matter in wake of the heartbreak she had just endured?

Momoi Satsuki wasn't a girl who easily fell in love.

Maybe it was due to the fact that she was surrounded by boys all the time. Or it could be the fact that it took a lot to impress her. Still, it was the truth. The only person she had ever fallen in love with before—really fallen in love with—had been Tetsu-kun. That hadn't worked out very well for her, but she hadn't expected it to either. So it had been okay.

In her second year of high school, though, Satsuki found herself falling in love with her upperclassman from the advanced statistics class she was attending. He was a scholar, a very serious kind of individual. He was smart, observant and he was an incredibly attractive man. He seemed a bit standoffish but when she'd asked him for his help, he'd been quick to offer it. He explained things to her in a way that was easy to understand.

For months, he had acted as though he was interested in starting something with her. They'd gone on a few dates and spent so much time together. It had given her courage. Courage to tell him outright how she felt, that this wasn't something that happened to her every day and she cherished the time they spent together. She wanted to be with him more.

He had smiled and asked her for some time to think about her words. She'd felt a jab of insecurity but she had quickly quelled it. Her senpai was a serious person, so she knew she should instead be flattered that he was taking her words so much to heart to give her confession all his undivided attention and consideration.

She knew he'd enjoyed their time together, too. So she felt certain that there was no way this could end unwell.

How come she was the only one staring dumbfounded into space now, heartbroken and unfeeling?

Why had it come to this?

_Why_?

"_Momoi, I—" he began, but his words refused to come out. So he paused and collected his thoughts before he continued. "I'm ready to give you my answer. To what you said to me the other day."_

_Satsuki's heart swelled and leapt in her throat at his words. She bit her lower lip in excitement, her hands clasped in front of her. She felt thrilled and nervous in a good way, but how come her beloved looked somewhat… morose?_

"_You made me really happy, with what you said. And the way you feel toward me." Her grin widened, heart aflutter. "I also feel the same way to you."_

_She might as well have died in that moment. She was so happy it wouldn't have mattered if she did. _

"_But—" he started and her she felt her heart sink. Her happy world where confessions came true and relationships started didn't have any room for 'but'. "I know that I can't be the most important person to you. I tried—I really did—not to let it bother me. But, I can't pretend and you deserve better. I don't know if _he _is better, but I can't compete. I'm sorry, Momoi."_

That's what he'd said. She had stood there as she had listened, in that same place, and she hadn't moved a muscle since then.

Senpai's words really hit a nerve. They struck a painful chord, all the while rending her heart into tiny little pieces.

'_I can't compete. I'm sorry, Momoi._'

For some reason, she couldn't even bring herself to cry, despite the grief induced by the words that replayed over and over in her mind. She was sad, but no tears came.

While she stared blankly for the longest time, the sky darkened overhead. Soon, it started drizzling. However, not even the soft raindrops seemed enough to bring her out of her stupor.

She was so sad and angry. She felt so frustrated and dejected. Again someone had misunderstood her relationship with _that guy_. He was her best friend, she had known him forever and she loved him dearly on any other day, but by the gods, she really _hated his guts_ right now.

_Why?_

Why was it so impossible for people to see that he was just a friend? She had no feelings for him and if she did, would she really bother trying to hook up with other guys instead of just directly going after him? _Come on_. Were boys just _that dumb_? And she thought senpai was supposed to be a smart one…

'_I can't compete. I'm sorry, Momoi._'

Men were such idiotic creatures sometimes. Compete? Compete with _what exactly_, dumbass? And why _compete_ to begin with? What kind of competition was it anyway? Better yet, what are the criteria?

_What's the prize_?

It's not a fucking competition, you moron!

Her hands clenched into tight fists next to her sides. Her finely filed nails dug deeply into the flesh of her palms. The sting of the pain brought some sense of reality back to her being.

Stupid, stupid Idiot-mine! It was his entire fault! All of this! She had told him how she felt about senpai and that the basketball freak should at least try to tone down his usual invasion of her personal space at least as long as senpai was around. She had _begged_ him to do it. She had even bribed him into it, and he really had toned it down a lot.

Still, their fame probably preceded them by far. She knew it because she had lived through it all through middle school as well. Stupid teenagers and their stupid inability to believe that there could be nothing but friendship between two people if they weren't of the same sex.

Stupid, stupid Idiot-mine and his "Satsuki this, Satsuki that". Stupid idiot and his imperious commandeering tone, telling everyone what and when to do. Stupid high-maintenance bastard who can't even come to goddamn school on time if she didn't call to wake him in the morning, come drag him out of the house and practically shove him into the classroom at the start of class lest he should escape and play hooky.

Stupid, stupid, stupid!

'_But… I know that I can't be the most important person to you._'

So what if she did care for the navy-haired moron? Wasn't she allowed to care and worry for her best friend of seventeen years?!

Aomine could be many things—too many to list properly, in fact—but _at least_ he always _stayed_.

There was a myriad of reasons behind it, of course; she knew that! But the fact remained that regardless of what happened, what she said to him, what she did to him—regardless whether she hurt him, insulted him, chased him off or whatever, he always stayed.

He stayed and still called her "Satsuki" with that air of calm familiarity and he was just… just _there_.

What was wrong with caring a lot for the person who is always there for you?

What was wrong with not feeling romantically interested in such a person?

Why couldn't anyone just _understand that_?

While her mind reeled and she stood standing behind the school building, the rain intensified. Her clothes were completely soaked and clinging to her frame. Their mind-numbing coldness drained her of all the warmth her body produced and left her shivering.

Still, she didn't move. She couldn't. All she _could_ do was stand and gape. Gape at the humongous hole left in her heart in wake of senpai's response to her confession, gape at the stupidity of mankind and at the unfairness of it all.

Was she going to live with this curse forever? By the looks of it, she was already getting a feeling at what the answer was. And she didn't like it. Not one bit.

Did she have to stop associating with Daiki in order to be able to get any romantic love in her life? Was that it? She was feeling so spiteful that she was almost tempted to do just that.

Then again, why should _she_ have to change because men were _stupid_, _dumb animals _who felt the need to act possessive and _territorial_ over everything?

"_Come on, Dai-chan! I'm not asking that much! Just stop dropping by every day—at least on the days I'm spending with senpai! He'll definitely misunderstand!" She looked at the growing sourness of Daiki's expression and heaved a sigh. "Really now, try to put yourself in my position a bit! I really care for senpai and I don't want him to misunderstand about us."_

"_Why should _I _have to change the way I live my life just because you decided to start courting some bookworm?" he drawled irritably, rubbing the back of his neck as he closed the magazine he'd been reading._

_Satsuki threw him a scathing glare. She didn't appreciate the demeaning attitude he had for her chosen one, but she decided to let it slide for now._

"_You should because this so-called 'way you live your life' is too invasive towards mine. Got it? Now get some of your stuff out of here—it's too obvious that half the things in this room aren't mine!"_

_He griped and grumbled for a while, but he did start collecting some of his magazines, clothes and other junk that cluttered her room. _

She blamed them for being stupid, but she was, too. She'd even gone as far as making Dai-chan do weird things for her sake. For _that bastard's_ sake. Just so he wouldn't misunderstand.

What was the point if he misunderstood anyway?

Satsuki didn't even notice when she was no longer standing there alone. It didn't even register in her mind that the rain was no longer falling on her and refreshing the bone-chilling coldness of her clothes.

She didn't see him standing with an umbrella over her form until he moved to stand in front of her.

He peered curiously at her at first. He wondered why she hadn't responded when he'd called her name repeatedly from afar.

Now that he stood in front of her, looking at her face, Aomine got a good notion of why that was.

Satsuki had donned on an expression he'd never seen before in his life. It looked so vacuous, so devoid of her usual spunk that he decided immediately he hated it.

"Satsuki. What are you doing out here in the rain?"

The question reached her ears, but not her mind. Her eyes slowly focused on the lines of his face—the note of slight worry in his tone and in the crease of his brows expertly veiled. She blinked several times as they just continued staring at each other.

"Oi, Satsuki—do you even hear what I'm saying to you, hey?" He waved the hand that wasn't holding the umbrella in front of her face. She didn't even bat her eyes at the movement.

His worry for her was starting to become more pronounced the more time went on and the only sound that filled the silence between them being the pelt of the rain on the fabric of the umbrella.

'_I'm sorry, Momoi._'

She opened her mouth to say something. No words came out. How did one talk again?

Daiki raised his brows expectantly, urging her on.

"He—" she started and wondered if this was really her voice coming out of her mouth. She didn't remember it being so croaky or haunted. "He said he was sorry."

Daiki's eyes widened a fraction as understanding dawned on him. Then the chill of the cold rain became just slightly more pronounced to him as he wondered what he was supposed to say in this situation.

They had been together through thick and thin their entirely lives. This, however, was an unprecedented moment in their seventeen-year-old bond.

"He said…" she spoke again, pulling him out of his reverie. "He said he can't compete. So he won't try."

Daiki's brows furrowed in slightly vexed confusion.

"What?" He honestly didn't get what that was supposed to even mean. Was that senpai of hers really as smart as she'd made him out to be?

He was starting to doubt it with what she was telling him.

Only after his barked out response did she finally shift her head to gaze up into his face. Her eyes held a very intense look, which almost made him flinch back. Scorn, grief and hopelessness burned in her orbs as she held his gaze.

Something about the expression on her face, her soaked clothes and the look in her eyes made a jab of guilt spear him.

"I hate you," she told him at length in a deadpan tone. "I hate you so much…"

Her voice broke along with the proverbial dam. Looking at his dumbstruck face at this kind of time had really struck a painful nerve and she couldn't hold it any longer.

She started crying.

"I hate you so, so much, you bastard."

Daiki stared wide-eyed at her, shifting his weight to his other foot and his eyes away from her. He couldn't stand looking at her form racked by sobs.

Somehow, her words had been clue enough to what had happened between that guy and her earlier. She'd been so happy after she had confessed to him she had been practically prancing the whole week. She'd been very hopeful about the reply.

It seemed none of that happiness was left within her anymore.

Realistically, it wasn't his fault that the bookworm was a moron. It wasn't Daiki's fault that the idiot had misunderstood. It wasn't his fault that Satsuki was his best friend. It wasn't his fault that he'd known the girl the longest after her own parents, and it most certainly wasn't his fault that she was one of the very, very few people in the world who could tolerate him.

Those were true, so there was no reason for Aomine to feel bad. And yet, he did. He felt guilty for the heartbreak Satsuki had just gone through. He felt guilty for being the reason her feelings hadn't come through to her romantic interest.

And even as he felt responsible and at fault, in the farthest corner of his heart, he also felt relieved.

If Satsuki had started dating that guy, his life would've changed drastically—in many ways. He didn't want that because he liked his life the way it was. It was perfectly fulfilling for him.

Therefore he couldn't understand why it hadn't been as fulfilling for her.

She told him she hated him and yet as he looked at her, shaking as she whimpered and cried and sobbed, how come every single fibre of her being was screaming 'Please don't go!' to him?

They've known each other forever and he's seen her tears plenty of times. A lot of those they had been his direct fault. Other times, it was his indirect involvement that induced them.

And still he was horrid at dealing with her when she was like this.

He didn't know how to comfort her, or what he could say to make this better. He knew she understood how impossible this was for him and how uncomfortable he felt in this situation. This was not his mess to deal with, so he shouldn't have felt obliged to stay. Satsuki was a strong girl, so she would get back on her feet soon enough even if he didn't say or do anything at all.

And yet he stayed, because he just couldn't bring himself to leave her on her own when she was like this. So vulnerable, open and full of raw emotion.

There probably was a right answer to this situation, but he didn't know it. He has never been one much to care about getting things right. He didn't know what to do so he put his free hand on top of her head. The pressure he applied was almost inexistent but the touch was there. He still didn't know what to say so he chose to stay silent instead, looking down at her shaking body in front of him.

"I hate you…" she said, but leaned her forehead against his chest instead of moving away.

She made no move to remove his hand from her head so he made sure to let it stay there. He angled himself so that she'd be closer, the distance between them shrunk as she slumped against him, powerless, drained and almost lifeless.

'I hate you,' she said. But it was 'Don't go' he heard as clear as a cloudless sky.

'I blame you,' she meant with it, and 'So you better make this right' that was implied in her tone.

He sighed deeply, pulling her closer into his towering frame.

"Sorry, Satsuki," he murmured. The rain drowned out his soft-spoken apology. It's a good thing it did because he sucked at apologizing and hated doing it. He never apologized to anyone for anything. But right now, it seemed like the only thing he _could_ do for her.

He had never meant to break her.

"I hate you so much…" she said but her fingers fisted in the front of his vest, clinging to him for dear life.

It was 'I need you, so don't let go' she conveyed instead.

She stood there, crying in her best friend's arms for the longest of times. To his credit, he didn't complain even for a moment as she took her time in trying to recollect her bearings.

When her tears ran dry, her earlier conversation played into her mind's ear again.

'_I know I can't be the most important person to you._'

That's right. On the court and off it, the only one who could win against Aomine Daiki, was Aomine Daiki.

Especially when it came to his bond with his best friend.

When she was done crying and she looked and felt like a mess, in Daiki's eyes there was something breathtakingly beautiful about her. It was so unlike the strong Satsuki who was his only equal off the court to allow herself to be seen in such a light. Especially by him. Maybe that was why he felt so drawn into the beauty of her misery then. Or maybe it was just his guilt?

Whatever it was, it made him bend down until his face was level with hers. He pressed a chaste kiss to her lips with his hand on her shoulder holding her steady in his grip.

To Satsuki, his kiss was surprising and clumsy, an almost child-like attempt at cheering her up. If he were better at it, maybe it would have worked, but his inexperience at initiating such acts of intimacy only made it feel silly to her.

Still, she recognized the gesture for what it was. She accepted his wordless apology and his vow to make it up to her.

She still maintained that she wasn't romantically interested in him (_not yet_) but he was the most important person in her life. He was the only constant in the turmoil of her ever-dynamic surroundings, the only anchor she could rely on to keep her firmly grounded.

So she closed her eyes and kissed him back. It was by no means romantic—not with her clothes clinging so unsightly to her frame, not with the tear tracks spanning the length of her face, not with her tasting like salt and bitter rejection.

Her best friend's kiss was more of a reassuring, a re-establishment of hope that, eventually, things would be all right.

When she looked into his intense navy orbs after they parted, Satsuki knew she would be okay.

They would be okay, come what may.

* * *

A/N: Errr… This kind of got away from me? O.o I don't know but I am kind of endlessly proud of it. :D (Also, God might smite me down where I stand for _once again_ writing AoMomo instead of studying. I blame Aomine's awesomeness and irresistibleness if I end up failing an exam. Seriously.)

This pairing is my new fixation. I just, I can't, you guys. I adore them so much, and I didn't even feel that way when I was watching the anime. _What is wrong with me, I don't even—_

Hope you liked despite the slight long-windedness of it. Drop me a line to let me know your thoughts!

100 Situations, Table One; 007: Friend.

_4__th__ February, 2013._


	3. Epiphany

When you give them some consideration, epiphanies are funny things.

They come when you least expect them, they're caused by nothing in particular and suddenly, your thinking is no longer the same, altered so fast and successfully it can knock the wind out of your lungs.

It's on a day like any other when she has one. An epiphany.

Quite possibly _the_ epiphany of her life.

Like with any other epiphany, it's not like they are doing something all that different at that moment. It's summer, the sun is high overhead and the weather is absolutely sweltering. In these conditions, Touou's basketball team is having practice in the gym. Aomine is attending practice for once and he's already regretting choosing to get out of bed that day. Even in his drenched jersey with loose sleeves and shorts, he feels like he's being boiled in his own skin.

So he goes outside to splash some cold water on his face and head, hoping it will help him cool off at least a tiny bit.

Satsuki meets him at the sink. She's just coming back from having bought some refreshments for the team. When she sees him shoving his head under the running water, she giggles and decides she'll wait for him so they can head back inside together.

He shuts the water off and runs a hand through his wet spikes of navy hair before he notices her presence. She can see that his hair is getting somewhat out of hand as his bangs are starting to reach his eyes and irritate them. The look suits him, though, she decides with a small smile.

It's then that it hits her. The epiphany. She's watching him stretch his stiff limbs with an exasperated expression, droplets of cold water running down the sides of his face and outlining the fine features of his toned body as much as the jersey allowed to be seen. He was grumbling something to himself—probably complaining about the overbearing heat and having chosen today of all days to come to practice.

She watches him and suddenly, she feels enlightened. Changed. Altered incorrigibly within just a single moment of crystal-clear clarity.

The epiphany overwhelms her and compels her to share it aloud. She complies before she can stop herself.

"I love you, Daiki."

The unusual use of his full first name throws him off-pace much more than her confession itself. He's used to being Dai-chan, Idiot-mine and all sorts of variations of those, but not Daiki. Never Daiki.

He pauses only for a heartbeat until he gets back on track in his usual pace.

"Yeah, I know," he says with a wolfish grin and turns to leave.

She makes a grimace at his retreating back. Satsuki doubts he knows. After all, she hadn't known until just now either. How could _he_ know something she didn't?

The pink-haired manager sighs deeply and jogs up to fall in stride with her childhood friend. Her earlier frown is replaced with a bright smile as she peers up into the face of her team's ace.

He misunderstood. It was clearer than the sky over their heads.

That's okay though, she decides. She has all the time in the world to make him understand.

She gives him his drink from her cargo and he thanks her, sincerely grateful for the refreshment.

He doesn't pay any heed to the way her fingers brush against his, nor to the way her hand lingers just a bit longer on the bottle before she hands it over to him.

Satsuki thinks of the countless years they have spent side by side, of her inability to be anywhere but where _he_ is. And she knows.

She's sure they will have all the time in the world indeed.

* * *

A/N: I don't even know what this is. But I liked it. Especially at the beginning. I dunno. I hope you like it, too!

100 Situations, Table One; 054: Patient.

_7__th__ January, 2013._


	4. Liberation

_Come along, come along with me…_

* * *

"Why the long face, Sacchan?"

A pout. A petulant glare.

"Go away, Dai-chan!"

A sigh.

"Are you still angry because I got away from that uncle and you didn't?"

The boy's tone betrayed his pride in his speedy escape. It made the little girl glare at him heatedly, the corners of her eyes prickling with tears of childish indignation.

"I'm angry because _you left me behind_, you _traitor!_" she shouted at her friend. Her volume and the shakiness of her voice drew the attention of some of the children and parents leaving from the kindergarten with them.

Daiki cringed.

"Come on! The plan was to get out of there as fast as we can if we see the uncle coming. I even _told_ you he's on the way," he tried to reason with her, hoping to dissuade her from the tantrum she was about to throw.

The little girl sniffled loudly. Overreacting, as always, her friend thought with exasperation.

"We both know that you're the faster runner, Dai-chan! It was unfair to just leave me behind like you did! Cruel! _Cruel_!" She sniffled again, tears streaming down her face unchecked now. "I got scolded so much! And I didn't even want to do it—I was just doing as _you_ told me! And then you left me behind to get yelled at when you ran away on your own—Dai-chan, you _idiot_!"

She was crying so heart-wrenchingly and earnestly now that she made several moms turn around to look at what the commotion was all about.

The sudden attention to the two of them made Daiki feel anxious and more than a little guilty.

"All right, all right, already! I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry, so stop crying, Sacchan!" he tried to placate her. All it achieved was make the girl cry louder.

"No, you're not! You're not sorry at all! You just want to shut me up!" she wailed. Her friend cringed. If she already knew, then why wasn't she doing just that?

"I'll take you to my secret hideout if you stop crying, okay?" he blurted out when he had already tried all other options of trying to get his best friend to calm down.

His offer achieved its purpose when the little girl shut up and peered at him with swollen but shining with intrigue eyes. Her crying ceased and she focused on him with unusual intensity. The boy swallowed dryly, mentally preparing himself for another fit coming when she deemed his proposition not worthy of her attention.

The fit never came.

"You will?" she asked in a slightly blubbering tone. Her voice was still shaky from her earlier bout.

"Of course! I would never lie about such a thing, right?" the navy-haired boy said with an easy grin. The relief of having successfully quelled his friend's distress was immense.

When the little girl gave him an unconvinced glare, he laughed nervously and put a hand behind his head.

"I said I was sorry about that yesterday. I really mean it!" He gave her his most convincing apologetic smile.

She just stared levelly at him, not completely persuaded.

"Just forget about that stuff, and come with me! I promised I'll show you my secret hideout, so that's where we'll go! When you see it, all your worries will fly away!"

He grabbed her by the hand then and pulled her off in direction of an unknown destination.

However, one thing Satsuki knew for sure—wherever he was taking her, it was bound to be somewhere fun.

Dai-chan was the best at finding the most awesome places to have fun!

* * *

_Come along, come along and you'll see…_

* * *

More than ten years later, Satsuki's string of fate was still tightly bound to Aomine Daiki's. If anything, they had been wound tighter together by the years past.

They were no longer children and their worries were no longer about who got a larger share from his mom's cake or whose sundae is bigger. They were seniors in high school now. The world stood, staring at them, expectant. Egging them on to take the step that would bring them closer to becoming part of society. Urging them to start taking important decisions about their lives.

They were no longer kids and even though she still called him Dai-chan, he wasn't just her friend anymore. Their bond was changing, morphing into _something_, something she couldn't quite name, couldn't quite place. For the way he sometimes let his gaze linger on her, a twinkle in his eye, or the way his touch on her hand and shoulder was much gentler than she remembered—those are not the ways a friend acts toward another friend. The kisses they have sometimes shared were not kisses between friends.

He was still her Dai-chan, but he was so much more than what he used to be.

He was someone she took care of, relied on and dreamt of.

He was also someone she horribly envied.

She envied him because it took him no more than five minutes to scribble in his response when they were given the career choice sheets. She envied the clarity of his path, and his self-assuredness in his capabilities.

She wished she had those. She knew she was talented as well—of course—but she had no idea how to use that talent.

She didn't know what she wanted to do with her life.

And it ate at her for days and days, making her incapable of turning in the simple enough questionnaire back to the teacher.

She didn't know when, but he must've noticed her moroseness despite her attempts to keep it from him.

That's just it about them. He always noticed, regardless what she tried to hide.

And he always knew the best way to bring her out of the holes she dug herself into.

* * *

It was a rainy Wednesday, and she was staring vacantly out of the nearby window. She wasn't really looking at anything in particular, half-mesmerized by the trickle of the droplets on the pane. Her mind barely registered the ring of the bell, signalling the end of class.

She noticed him standing in front of her only when his hand slammed on her desk top. The sound gave her a small fright, making her head whip in his direction.

He gave her a smooth grin. Without saying a word, he took her by the hand and dragged her out of class, his ears deaf to her protests as he hauled her out of the premise.

She tried to tell him that they weren't even supposed to be there when he took her to the door leading to the roof of the school building. He ignored her voice of reason as he took out a key from his pocket, setting off a chain of alarming questions popping into Satsuki's mind. He put the key in the lock, turning until the soft click indicated that their path was no longer barred.

He opened the door to the rooftop with a flourish, walking out into the rain with a couple of wide strides.

She attempted to reason with him that it's cold and raining out and that he'll catch a cold, so _come back in, Dai-chan!_ He ignored her, an amused chuckle leaving his lips this time.

"Are you made of sugar, Satsuki?" She gave him an odd look at the question, not sure what he was trying to say. "The rain won't melt you. Come out—it's awesome here!"

She raised her fine brows sceptically at him, refusing to take a step further from her spot. However, she was given no say in the matter when he grabbed her by the wrist, pulling her out into the downpour outside.

Her clothes were drenched within a minute, and a colourful string of profanities left her lips. She cursed her best friend who only laughed at her discomfort. His face was turned upward, toward the heavy clouds above. His eyes were closed but his mouth was set in a handsome smirk which made her protests die in her throat.

Instead, she focused on looking at him, marvelling at the perfection that was Aomine Daiki. As much as she envied him, she admired him. She admired his ability to be free in anything and everything. His basketball play style was the most free-spirited she had ever seen (and that was saying something, after so many matches played for six years against so many people). There wasn't yet a lock invented that could keep him out. There was no amount of threats and warnings that could stop him from doing what he wanted.

Dai-chan was as selfish and self-serving as they came.

And she admired that about him.

Because he was always free.

Although she had considered herself an individual unbound by anything, she only now realized—as they stood, drenched in the rain on the rooftop of their school where entry of students was strictly prohibited—that she had never known what it was like to be as free as he was.

She was always conscious of someone else's interests, always worried she might infringe on someone's personal space, always caring about what others wanted her to do.

She always lost sight of the things that were important when the matters she was considering were overly complicated.

"It's really awesome here, right?" He spread his arms wide, turning around on his heels in full circle with his face still tilted upward. "Makes you forget all your worries, doesn't it?"

Her eyes widened as she looked at him. She really ought not to be surprised. He was Dai-chan and he always noticed. He always _knew_ and he always had the best solution.

Because, unlike her, he was free.

Free of influence, free of chains, free to be himself.

She didn't answer him for a while, her hands clenching together in front of her chest. He gave her time, sighing and running a hand through his navy spikes of hair. His head tilted back from the force he put into the action, and the movement exposed the long column of his neck to the droplets of rain falling from the sky.

She watched almost hypnotized as the water ran down from his soaked hair towards his drenched hand and clothes.

"Dai-chan."

"Hmm?"

She took a moment to formulate her next words. He didn't rush her, savouring the feel of the September rain on his skin.

"Where do you see us, in five years?"

If her question caught him off-guard, he gave no visible indication of it. The smooth smile was still on his face as he turned to look at her, that intense look still in his eyes, as he articulated his response evenly.

"Anywhere. It doesn't really matter _where_." She opened her mouth to contend him when he added, "All that matters is that we'll figure it out together." He gave her a pointed look, daring her to disagree with him. "Right?"

He had taken a few strides and was now standing right in front of her, back bent to gaze into her eyes from almost the same level. She swallowed slowly as the words registered in her mind.

The pink-haired girl's face blossomed steadily into a beaming smile.

"Right," she agreed easily while Daiki placed his forehead against hers.

His arms were wrapped around her shoulders and she could feel the heat of his skin emanating through their drenched clothes. The cold rain felt like it was cleansing her very soul from the wearisome thoughts and anxieties for the future.

His words were a promise. And she knew that he was a person who always kept his promises.

Instead of feeling bound by that promise, it made her feel lighter and freer than ever.

It was then that he kissed her, there, in the middle of the rooftop in the pouring rain, when she felt what he must have felt his entire life—absolutely free.

She wondered how she'd never noticed before that his kisses were her liberation.

* * *

… _What it's like to be free._

* * *

A/N: What is this, I don't even—I honestly have no clue what the hell was up with me when I got this idea. I just heard Titiyo's "Come Along" and I felt like "Oh, gosh, this sounds like something Aomine could say to Momoi" and… This is the result. O.o

I hope you enjoyed the slight fluff. xD I had a lot of fun writing it! The end was a bit tricky but, oh well!

Getting back to writing Solace! It's my master project, after all! ^.^

100 Situations, Table One; 069: Come.

_14__th__ February, 2013._


	5. How to Make Important Proposals

It's really funny how sometimes, while having a mild, unimportant conversation, a topic is brought up and someone makes a comment that sounds so natural to them, so matter-of-fact that they don't think much of it, but it wows the rest of their audience. Have you ever experienced it?

Momoi Satsuki has. Many times, in fact. Owing to the fact she was the closest person to one of the most spontaneous of people in the world, she experienced her fair share of such surprising revelations.

The one that takes the prize, though, is definitely that certain conversation they had during practice in third year of high school.

She was making small talk with most of the guys on the team, asking them where they were planning to go, what they were going to do with their lives, if they had significant others and all sorts of things like that. She shared many laughs with the boys on those topics and, even though she thought they would not feel like talking to her about these things, most of them were rather eloquent.

Having asked everyone but Daiki, she decided to approach him as well out of courtesy. Because she was pretty sure what all his answers to her questions would be already—she'd known him her entire life and she spent practically every day with him. She doubted he could come up with any response she would be surprised about.

She was sure that, with a talent like his and a penchant for basketball, he was sure to either go for the professional league or at least go to a sports university on a scholarship. He'd continue building his name through defeating many, many other teams and strive to become the best in Japan, if not the world (knowing his megalomaniac way of goal-setting).

Indescribable was her surprise when she found out that he wasn't even planning on continuing playing basketball after high school.

"Are you stupid? Basketball is just a game." He drove his point across that much more efficiently as he scored a perfect three-pointer from the line. "Sure, it's possible to make money for a living with it if you're good enough—and I am—but that would be just temporary."

She recovered quickly from the face fault she relapsed in after his off-hand self-satisfactory comment to gaze quizzically at him.

"What do you mean?" she questioned curiously as she let her gaze linger on his back while he chased after the ball.

"It's a power sport," he said then as though that explained everything.

It did.

"To be good at it, you need to have strong muscles, quick reflexes and be constantly in top form. It's very straining on the body and that's fine while you're young. But no one stays forever young. And no one can keep up a sports career much later than their forties."

He scored again from the free throw line and caught the ball so fast afterwards that it felt as though it never touched the ground.

"I wouldn't choose a career of basketball. You can't feed a family off of that kind of thing."

Satsuki's eyes widened at that last revelation. The mere notion of Aomine Daiki considering his future as far as knowing what choices are good and what aren't in terms of a would-be family was flooring. She didn't think him capable of such complex thought process. And yet, here he was, obviously having given this matter some serious consideration.

"I'd probably go for something more convenient and applicable. Like business or finance or whatever." Another three-pointer. He wiped his forehead with his forearm, heaving a sigh as he did so.

His manager stared at him in wonder, as though seeing him for the first time at that moment. In a sense, she guessed she did see him for the first time then. After all, the Daiki she believed she'd known her whole life would never have such… well, _mature _and realistic view on matters as profound as this.

Here she'd thought that all he bothered entertaining his mind with was living it up, enjoying his life to its fullest and just letting himself get carried in the flow.

But he even had enough common sense to consider what would be best for his family.

What an odd thought. Dai-chan's family. A family she didn't know, full of people who wouldn't be part of her world.

Full of people who would put a wall between her and Dai-chan.

The thought made her feel an unpleasant jab in her chest and she tasted a tinge of bitterness on her tongue.

"What are you staring at me like that for?" the boy snapped waspishly at her, having just noticed her gaze following him so closely it was almost suffocating.

Satsuki gave a thoughtful hum in the back of her throat and forced a smile on her face. Daiki's glare deepened when he noticed the plastic expression.

"I was just thinking how foreign it seems. Dai-chan thinking about his future family." She made a long pause before adding, "It's hard to imagine the kind of woman who'd be able to stand next to Dai-chan."

She was surprised that she even managed to get the words out of her mouth, especially with the way they got stuck in her throat.

Daiki stopped shooting. He turned around, the ball rested between his hip and his forearm, and he gave his best friend the most comical look of disbelief.

"Huh? What are you talking about, dumbass? It's obviously going to be your family, too." He shook his head as though he were talking to a small child, or a slow person. "Don't talk as if this has nothing to do with you."

It took her about a minute to wrap her mind around what exactly he had just said to her.

When she did, she spent a good amount of time blushing, many different thoughts flashing through her mind. She wondered how she should respond to a claim like that, or if he even expected her to say anything.

She was so caught up in fussing over it that it took her a while to notice that Daiki had resumed his practicing as though his statement had been something you say to people every day.

As if proposing marriage in such an off-hand matter is something that happened to everyone, everywhere, all the time.

He was so completely unperturbed by the exchange, his form as flawless and beautiful as ever, that she couldn't help feeling her emotions soothed just by watching him. A smile eased onto her face—a genuine one this time—as she realized what was the only thing that needed to be said in this situation between them.

"Geez, Dai-chan. That has to be the most unromantic proposal in the world."

He threw her a wry glare out of the corner of his eyes when he landed after a dunk.

"Shut up, idiot," he grumbled under his breath as he carried on practicing.

Satsuki could almost swear she saw a slight twinge of red dust the dark skin of his cheeks when he turned away from her.

It was true that his proposal had been phrased in probably the most unromantic way imaginable.

It was also true that it was the most perfect proposal that she'd ever hear—because it was the only one she'd want to hear.

Satsuki didn't answer Daiki. She didn't really need to. He already knew her answer.

And, despite the complete lack of romance in his proposal, it helped her find out the answer to it as well.

* * *

A/N: I really wanted to type up this exchange. It seemed hilarious and very AoMomo-esque! I hope you enjoyed it as well. C: Sorry for the late update. I lost my desire to write for a while. I'm not used to being so smitten with a pairing that has such small fanbase. The lack of feedback hits on my confidence. xd Anyway, I hope you enjoyed!

100 Situations, Table One; 094: Old.

_27th February, 2013._


	6. Asking Permission

Contrary to what anyone might believe otherwise, Mr Momoi was a rather observant man when it came to his only daughter.

She was his little girl, and like any loving father, he adored her. He practically worshipped the ground she walked on since the day she was born. On that same, aforementioned, day he had vowed that he would look after her, make sure not to let her come to any harm, protect her from anything and everything that may come to pass and be there for her when she needed someone to rely on.

She was his little girl, and she always would be, no matter how grown up she got. She was going to graduate from university soon and it felt like just yesterday that he was running after her in the amusement park, trying to keep her from getting into any trouble or falling over.

His Satsuki as growing up and becoming a woman, but in his eyes, she would always be his little girl. He would always look after her. He knew her better than anyone because he had looked after her his entire life.

This was why it was easy for Mr Momoi to notice the slight changes in his daughter's behaviour. Or, rather, it would be more accurate to say in her countenance? Something about her had changed. She still did the same things as before, she was still the same as always. But she was different.

He'd also noticed that she'd been spending a lot more time with the neighbours' kid than she used to in high school. They were attending the same university so he guessed it was normal, but still, it seemed peculiar to him. As far as he knew, Daiki-kun was one of her best friends—which, frankly, Mr Momoi found dubious at the age that the kids were—but he wasn't anything other than that. Or at least Satsuki hadn't mentioned anything to him and his wife about a change in status quo.

Thus why Mr Momoi thought his daughter would be much better off looking for a romantic partner rather than being tied down by an awkward friendship. Make no mistake – the Momoi patron loved Daiki—he was like the son he never had—but he didn't want the boy's relation to his daughter rob her of potential future prospects.

Satsuki's father was sitting in the living room, reading the day's newspaper, when he heard his offspring breeze through the premise and head straight for the door. She shuffled her shoes on, did a quick once-over at her outfit and prepared to go out.

Mr Momoi peered curiously at her from over the couch's backrest.

"Going out, Satsuki?" he inquired good-naturedly with a smile.

The beaming grin his daughter sent him when she finished putting her shoes on was absolutely heart-warming.

"Yep!" she chirped merrily. "It's a great Saturday for going shopping downtown! Dai-chan promised to come help me carry my stuff, so I am going to make use of that promise now."

Daiki-kun again, hm? Mr Momoi sent a curious glance her way.

"You seem to be spending a lot of time with Daiki-kun lately, daughter," he surmised thoughtfully and observed his girl for her reaction on the matter. "Is there something more going on there than you're letting on?"

Satsuki laughed at that, turning on her heel to give her dad a sheepish grin.

"What are you talking about, daddy? Dai-chan and I have always been like this."

Her father gave her a thoughtful hum, turning back around to get back to reading his newspaper.

He didn't know what reason his daughter had for lying to him about this, but he decided he wouldn't question her any further for now. He had yet to get used to the fact she wasn't a child anymore—she was already twenty-three years old and, being the independent and strong young woman that she was, she would probably be moving out of home soon. Even though she was still living under the same roof with them, the man couldn't grow out of the habits of needing to look after her all the time.

"I'll get going before I'm late. See you later, daddy!" she called out as she burst out the door.

"Have fun, Satsuki," her father wished her.

And he did mean it.

* * *

When his daughter had been very enthusiastic and very insistent on taking him and his wife out on some impromptu outing for lunch, Mr Momoi had been quite curious as to her reasons for it. It sounded a bit too formal for their family—it's not like they had anything in particular to celebrate or anything, which was usually the only reason that they went out to eat at a restaurant.

What the man found even more puzzling was Daiki-kun's presence at what he had assumed had been supposed to be a Momoi family lunch date. Not that he minded the boy's presence of course—it was nice to have someone to talk to about things that really interested him – being the only man in a household domineered by his two women was a somewhat intriguing position for the elder man.

Although he didn't quite understand the reason for their gathering, Mr Momoi was most certainly enjoying it. When the boy had been little, he had been quite the troublemaker and somewhat of a rascal, but he appeared to have grown up into a fine young man. His wit and humour appealed to the elder man and he was very glad that one of the greatest influences in his daughter's life ended up turning out to be such a decent boy.

"Excuse me, please," Satsuki said as she gingerly pressed a napkin to her lips. "I need to go make a phone call." She gave a bright smile to all three people she was leaving at the table while she stepped away from her chair. "I'll be right back."

Even if Mrs Momoi missed it, Mr Momoi certainly did not—the knowing, and encouraging look that she threw at Daiki on her way off.

The boy cleared his throat as he set his fork down and shifted his gaze out of the window. His whole body exuded an air of nervousness that didn't quite fit his carefree character.

"Dai-chan, you don't need to be so tense around us," Mrs Momoi told him amiably. "You've known us your whole life—we're practically family. You don't need Sacchan around to feel comfortable in our presence, right?"

Daiki coughed into his hand before giving the woman an uncertain look.

"Of course not, auntie," he said but still continued sounding rather unconvinced. "It's just that, err…" He rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably, letting his eyes wander from the pleasant woman he truly had known his whole life to the scenery outside the window of the restaurant they were sitting in. "I need to talk to you two about something."

At this both Momois peered at him curiously.

"We'd be happy to help you with anything, darling," Mrs Momoi supplied heartily, and it seemed the warmth of her tone and statement helped the young man steel his nerves.

"It's something important." He paused, looking down at his half-eaten plate. "Actually, it's very important. So I asked Satsuki to give me a chance to talk to you two about it."

Mrs Momoi put a hand over her chest as she looked at the boy, whose eyes continued being downcast.

"Oh, goodness—that sounds rather morose! Is everything all right?" the woman asked worriedly, and Daiki's gaze snapped up to meet hers.

"No, no! You don't need to worry, auntie! It's nothing bad. Everything's fine. In fact, it's better than fine. That's, uh… That's why I wanted to talk to you two."

"You're certainly being unusually formal, Daiki-kun. It's almost unnerving," Mr Momoi chortled to himself, earning himself a wry look from his wife.

The navy-haired adolescent gave a little laugh himself then, running a hand through the spikes of his unruly hair.

"Yeah, I know, I'm pretty bad at this kind of stuff. I'm no good at beating around the bush." The boy heaved a great sigh and sat up, straightening his shoulders and back. "So I'll just cut to the chase instead."

The truth was that from the moment Satsuki had left the table, Mr Momoi had a clue as to where this was going.

"Uncle—no, Mr Momoi."

Both men ignored the incredulous look Mrs Momoi gave the boy at the somewhat outrageously formal address.

"I would like to ask you to give me your daughter's hand in marriage."

If his statement hadn't been awe-striking enough, the fact that Aomine Daiki—the rascal and insubordinate, wilful child that he'd always been—was bowing his head to the elder man was most certainly flooring.

At the flabbergasted looks on the Momois' faces—and their complete lack of response of any type—Daiki figured out that perhaps he'd been a bit _too _straight to the point.

"I've already asked Satsuki and she said yes, but—as you said, you guys are practically family to me, so I thought I should come straight to you after and ask." He explained it so eloquently that it seemed hard to believe he'd been so nervous just a couple of minutes prior.

"Daiki-kun," Mr Momoi began and the boy's back tensed again as he listened raptly. "Are you serious?"

It was a simple enough question. And, although he was many things, Daiki wasn't stupid. He could tell that there was a lot more to that question that the superficial inquiry of whether or not he was poking fun at the mother and father of the most important person in his life.

He knew that the elder man was not only asking him if he was seriously asking their permission to marry their daughter, but also if he was serious about her.

"Never been more serious about anything in my life, uncle," he said truthfully.

And, from the determination the elder man met in the sapphire gaze, he could already tell that the boy's feelings were true. Neither of Satsuki's parents had heard anything about a romantic involvement from her daughter, but then again, they didn't really need to. It was her life and her business. All that mattered to them was that she would be happy, whatever choices she made.

And, although he was many things—he wasn't perfect by any means—Daiki was someone they knew, and someone they were aware they could trust.

From the way the young boy met his gaze defiantly, Mr Momoi knew that his role as the most important man in his daughter's life had been taken on by someone else. Knowing that was somewhat painful, but at the same time it was a relief as well. It was relieving to know that she wasn't alone, and that she would be well taken care of.

Because Mr Momoi had no doubts as to the fact that Daiki-kun would look after his girl in his stead.

Looking at the boy now—so young, full of hope and promise and spunk—he was reminded of his younger days, when he'd asked his wife's parents for her hand in marriage as well. The situation had been a world different, but he couldn't help feeling a strong sense of kinship to the boy who was starting to take small steps onto the road on becoming a man. Much like Mr Momoi had when he had been young.

So the Momoi patron smiled amiably, giving a gentle nod to the boy sitting across the table from him.

"All right then. Make sure you take good care of my little girl, young man."

Mrs Momoi, who had remained silent—dumbstruck—throughout their entire tight-lipped exchange, now started shedding silent tears of joy at what she was seeing and hearing happening. Her little girl, growing up and about to become a wife! Oh, happy day!

"Make her happy," the father instructed and Daiki grinned widely.

"It's my new mission in life," he said, tone joking but eyes completely serious.

As if on cue, Satsuki decided to re-join them at that moment, a smile on her face. Her mother managed to compose herself just on time not to worry her daughter.

"Okay, sorry for taking so long! Real estate brokers are such a pain sometimes, really!" she exclaimed, seating herself comfortably in her chair. "Did you guys have a nice chat while I was gone?"

Her pink eyes darted over all three of their faces, intrigued.

"Oh, we certainly had a nice little talk. Right, dear?" her mother said, turning to her father.

"That we did," the Momoi family head agreed good-naturedly, taking a bite out of his somewhat forgotten lunch.

Satsuki blinked in slight confusion a couple of times, turning to throw a curious glance at her fiancé. He just shrugged and picked up his fork again, resuming his meal.

The carefree conversations resumed at the table, while underneath it, long tanned fingers interlaced with creamy white smaller ones in a secret affectionate hold.

* * *

A/N: My lovely Miss Mugiwara asked me for something a bit more in the future, so here it is! It's not exactly what she had in mind for sure, but this is what came to me. I liked the notion so I decided to go for it. I hope you enjoyed it despite it being somewhat weird compared to the other pieces in here. I hope I didn't make Daiki seem too out of character. xd Then again, it's a weird situation for him, so… :D

Still haven't read the manga. No idea if I didn't botch something here with Satsuki's family. Correct me if I did! Or just try to find it in yourself to forgive me? xD

100 Situations, Table One; 018: True.

_3rd March, 2013._


	7. Special Service

**FOREWARNING:** I'd say it's about time you people found out why I rated this collection "M" when I first posted it.

**Not for your prude and/or virgin eyes**, if you can't take a bit kinkiness.

* * *

Satsuki is the kind of strong, opinionated woman who usually takes the lead in any situation with an iron grip.

Daiki doesn't really mind because he enjoys the way she bosses people around, commandeers them to do her bidding and always, always does it for a just cause, for the right reasons. He even humours her every now and then and allows her to boss him around effortlessly, too, because why not cut her some slack every now and then.

He likes the strong, standing tall Satsuki, who isn't afraid to state her opinion even if it's not widely accepted and who stands behind it no matter what.

And even though those are his most sincere feelings on the matter, the way he likes her best is on her knees in front of him, with that delicious mouth of hers devouring him.

It gives Daiki a certain high that exactly a girl as strong and amazing—desired by pretty much every straight man in their school—as Satsuki is the one kneeling before him, running the hot heat of her mouth along the entire length of his engorged shaft.

The Touou Ace took pride in knowing that, in their intimate relations, he was a good lover to his girl. He always made sure to care for her needs first and foremost, and he always allowed her to be the one to finish first—despite what many might believe would not be the case, considering his character.

Maybe it was that exact consideration for her that had her not at all averse to giving him this kind of service every now and then. She found it as a good way to reward him whenever it was well-warranted.

And, as good control as Daiki has otherwise, when engaged in some act of intimacy with his girlfriend, he can never last long when she sucks on him just like that, or when she strokes him just there, or when she runs the tip of her tongue just like that over there.

He has nothing to compare with, so maybe he's just conjuring stuff out of thin air, but he does believe that she gives the best blow jobs.

Either that, or she conditioned him really, really well.

After all, it takes him only a few seconds to get painfully hard whenever her hand starts wandering down to his thighs and venturing inside his shorts. When she grabs a hold of him, giving him a few experimental pumps, it's all he can do to contain an embarrassing whimper from tearing from his chest.

And then, when she smiles at him in that impish way before she goes on to get down to her knees—gosh, every time she does it, he's about ready to come.

It's only through sheer force of will that he doesn't.

She trails kisses down his chest and abdomen while she proceeds lower and lower, as though he's not already turned on enough. When she pulls him out of his underwear, the air always feels unbearably cool against his sensitive skin. His brows furrow but he knows the discomfort won't last long, because he knows that Satsuki isn't one to tease in such a situation.

She doesn't disappoint when she gives his tip an experimental lick and feels twice more encouraged when a low growl of desire tears from him.

And the moment she takes him into her mouth—it's like entering heaven for all he knows. She's warm and satin soft and with the way she applies pressure to him in just the most delicious ways as she sucks him in is enough to make his mind shut down.

He stops thinking when her head starts bobbing up and down along the length of him. He can focus on nothing else except the mind-numbing pleasure she's granting him and the maddeningly arousing sight she presents as she grabs the base of his erection with her hand while her mouth works wonders on the most intimate part of him.

In this kind of set-up, he can never last long. She's too sexy, too seductive, too _mind-blowingly good at this_ for him—she always has him breathless and incapable of containing the strangled moans that exit his throat while she takes more and more of him into her mouth.

It already takes all his effort and will-power to keep his hips from thrusting into the delicious heat of her mouth, and he makes sure to always tell her—strained, breathless, barely above a whisper—when he's close.

She knows, though, even if he doesn't tell her. She can tell perfectly by how the whole length of him tenses, followed by his whole frame stilling when he's just right around the edge.

She loves watching him come undone, and she enjoys the power it makes her feel over him.

By just a single touch, he's already ready to go. She adores the expressions he makes while she allows him into her mouth. Her whole body burns with desire when he places a hand—so gently and lightly that she can barely tell he's even touching her—at the back of her head in a gesture of wordless need.

Satsuki knows that probably not every girl would be into this kind of thing. The mere notion of kneeling—taking a rather subjugated position—in front of a guy and doing this for him is probably not up every girl's alley.

Satsuki, however, enjoys it.

She enjoys it because, even though she's the one on her knees, it's Daiki who's begging her—_hold tighter; suck harder; don't stop, please, please,_ please—at the end.

And, frankly, she can't get enough of the flustered look on his face as he looks down at her when he comes, his eyes glazed with lust and adoration.

* * *

A/N: Yes. Yes, that's where I went with this prompt. _It had to be done, okay?!_

If this managed to get at least some butterflies in your tummy, then my mission has been accomplished! I hope you enjoyed the spin I gave to the prompt. (chuckles) Opinions and comments are always welcomed and encouraged!

100 Situations, Table One; 022: Beggar.

13th March, 2013.


	8. All-Encompassing Passion

A/N: Chapter has been truncated to protect mah precious azz from getting kicked off this site due to policy incompatibilities with chapter content. The language I've used in the original is too coarse, and too explicit. So parts have been edited out.

For unadulterated version of this chapter, go to my AO3. Nothing can stop me from releasing the monster of my perversion in there. xD

* * *

Sometimes, Satsuki wonders just how well people who know Daiki really _know_ Daiki.

She wonders how much they notice about him, and how much eludes their perception.

For example, she, herself, used to think of herself as the person who knew Dai-chan best. She did, because she'd spent practically all her life—conscious and no-so-much—next to him.

She'd always been there with him – through thick and thin.

She'd seen him go through many, many phases in his life, and she'd seen him endure, seen him react, seen him _be_.

This instils Satsuki with a condescending sort of self-esteem, with a complacency in thinking that she _knows_ Aomine Daiki, as though she knows him so well and for so long that he cannot surprise her.

As though he's one of the people she's so good at predicting on the court.

And, as far as their friendship went, he _was_ quite predictable. His behavioural patterns were easy to see through and his way of holding himself around her was quite linear. He rarely shocked her with anything, because he rarely had anything hidden from her.

Daiki does a truly _great_ job at making people perceive him as a carefree, uncaring son of a bitch (and the most sincere apologies go to Mrs Aomine, who most certainly did not fit that description, and who even more certainly had _not_ intended for him to turn out the way he did when she was bringing him up). He's so lax when it comes to his responsibilities and so unengaged in _things _that it makes people believe he simply doesn't give a damn about anything. That everything that happens to him just barely scrapes the surface of his mind, leaving very little impact on his person before fading into forgetful oblivion, never to be called upon again.

Satsuki had believed that to be the case, too.

After all, Dai-chan had given her no reason to believe otherwise, throughout their whole friendship.

When she becomes his girlfriend, after having known him for seventeen years before that, she can't help but wonder: did she really know anything about the boy next to her at all?

By becoming his intimate partner, it seemed to entitle her (in his mind) to a lot more of his personal space than he otherwise allowed. And that was saying something, since Dai-chan had always been a person rather invasive of other people's personal space and someone who didn't mind others even bodily breaching into his.

What he allowed her to see only once she became his girl was the vague and rare glimpses of his innermost world.

She still knew that Daiki is a person who didn't let himself be too deeply affected by things that happened around him—he was too carefree and free-spirited to be bound by such nonsense—but she no longer believed that he was emotionally daft like she used to.

Things _happened_ and they made her wonder: how well do his friends know Dai-chan?

How much do they notice about him?

How much of the signs he gives them elude them completely?

She wonders because, only after she becomes privy to his innermost emotions—and even that he allows only through his actions, because Dai-chan is too… too _Dai-chan_ to clothe his feelings into words—she realizes how truly, profoundly passionate he is.

Passionate, about the things that matter to him, about his bonds to the people he cares about, about _life_.

The thought of it, the flooring realization, always leaves her dumbfounded and unable to do anything. Because it surprises her, it blindsides her how much he actually _cares_, behind all the bravado and the arrogance and the aloof smirks he offers to the outside world.

Of course, she knows it doesn't take a genius to notice that he's a very passionate person on court. He plays with more desire, more drive, than anyone she has ever seen. He's always on fire when he plays his favourite game, always burning with fervour while he handles the ball with schooled ease.

That's not the kind of passion she's talking about, even if it is a facet of the one she's referring to.

No; what she means is the passion and amount of himself he invests in his bonds with people. Dai-chan has always been rather pure, always worn his heart on his sleeve.

It made him end up getting hurt numerous times. And maybe that's why he prefers to come off as standoffish and cold now. As a defence mechanism.

She knows, though, how much he cares for his closest friends. She knows how deeply it had affected him when Kuroko had effectively left him behind, along with the rest of Teikou's basketball club.

She knows how deeply he adores his parents for all the love and compassion they have given him throughout his life.

She knows how much he adores the game that gives him a high unlike any other, and that he still adores it even though in the last years of middle school and the first of high school it had twisted his personality beyond belief.

She knows all this and thinks she knows him best. She knows how passionate he can be towards her, the one he loves—the one who has him by the heart—because he never fails to convey his innermost feelings to her when they are alone together. He conveys them through every single touch of his fingers, through every press of his lips against her frame, through every sigh he breathes against her heated skin while he lavishes her body with kisses and gentle caresses.

Dai-chan, she knows, is a man of action. He's much better at speaking with his actions than with his words. He places little value in talking things out and prefers to _feel_ them, _live_ them, instead.

She thinks she understands that. She thinks she knows the depth of his character best, even when they first get together.

She knows him. She's sure he can't surprise her in any way, and that gives her a sense of security, a sense of calm, in believing so. Being with Dai-chan, she thinks, is a lot like home: familiar, safe, secure, dear.

She's an idiot for believing her own nonsense.

She finds out just how wrong she's been in assuming she knows all there is to know about him a day that is otherwise just like any other. A day when she finds him, face covered with a palm, seated on his bed with his knees bent to his chest.

She had gone to look for him when she found out he was skipping practice—_again_—only to discover him back at his room, looking like that.

She knows something is off from the moment he removes his hand from his face and fixes her with the most intense look she has ever been the recipient of.

She flinches as he stares her down, fidgeting a little. She's not used to this kind of scrutiny from him, and it makes heat rise in her cheeks. She swallows around the clenching of her throat and tries to manage a smile.

"D-Dai-chan? What's wrong?" Her voice sounds weak and annoying in her own ears. The smile she attempts looks more like a grimace.

And still he remains completely silent, just staring at her with that smouldering intensity.

Satsuki knows that look. She's seen him give similar ones to the best opponents he's faced on court. She would've never believed him capable of making such an expression for any other reason than basketball. And she most certainly would've never counted to be the one receiving it.

His piercing sapphire gaze makes her feel unnerved and shy. For some reason, the way he is wordlessly eyeing her feels like some sort of silent test of _god knows what_. It makes her feel completely exposed—and that was silly, because he's already seen her naked many times and she hadn't felt so self-conscious then, so why did she now?—and somehow oddly excited.

The heat in his gaze called forth a heat in her cheeks.

When he steps up from the bed, moving to stare down at her from in front of it (never once breaking eye contact), she feels her breath hitch in her throat. When he's so close and looking at her like that, she can't help feeling enticed.

Still, she can't shake the feeling that every pore of his body screams out to her that something is off with him, making it impossible for her to fully enjoy the pleasant feelings of warmth pooling in the pit of her stomach thanks to his proximity and quiet ardency.

She opens her mouth to ask him, again, if something happened, but she doesn't get a chance to vocalize anything. He seizes the chance to capture her lips with his in that moment, wasting no time before inviting himself to her mouth, his inquisitive tongue pushing past her lips eagerly.

When she pushes against the moist muscle with her own, she truly intends to get him off of her so she can insist on finding out what's wrong with him. She truly does.

But when he takes that as a sign of her desire to reciprocate, his advances get even more forward. And her resistances melt, because, really, who can resist the passionate kisses of the person they love, on any day?

He domineers the kiss so completely, he's so engrossed in the way her lips move against his and so spurred on by her throaty moans against his mouth, that his fingers are tracing her bare back before she even has a chance to realize he has pushed his hand under her shirt.

The clasp of her bra clicks as he undoes it, freeing her ample breasts to be feasted on by his eyes glazed over with lust (and something, _something else_, a traitorous little voice in the back of her mind whispers through her own lustful haze). She has only half a mind to open her mouth to ask him—one more time; for _his_ sake because he _matters_ to her—what's wrong and why is he in such a rush.

But then his lips are on her breast, his nimble tongue tracing the sensitive flesh of her nipple while he plays with the other with his hand. He nips and bites and sucks and makes all the blood rush through her body, focusing in her face and one other place. She feels the cotton of her panties pressing against her unpleasantly with its damp coolness and she squirms against him, eager to get more friction between their bodies.

Another reason she knows something is definitely off is the fact that he gives her little time to react before he acts upon whatever he wants to do to her.

Maybe not many would believe her, but _her_ Dai-chan is a very sensual lover. For all his rashness and self-centeredness on the court and among others, he never hurries when he's bedding his girl. In fact, it seems to give him some sort of satisfaction, relishing her moans and whines and whimpers when he touches her there or licks her like that. Her Dai-chan takes his time, enjoys foreplay with her, and prides himself for every appreciative noise he manages to get out of her.

Her Dai-chan wouldn't have her on the bed before she can even notice he's steering them backwards. He most certainly wouldn't assault her neck and let his hands roam her body so directly, so hastily, barely ghosting over the areas she needed him to touch.

And he would most definitely not insert a finger in her before she can realize his hand has even reached her sex.

* * *

She bites her lip roughly, trying her best to rein in her disappointment. Tears burn in her eyes but she refuses to shed them. It's hard containing her emotions because this is the first time this happens to her—being left hanging like this.

All she can hear is both their laboured breathing, while Daiki holds himself from crashing into her by an arm placed next to her shoulder on his bed. He's the first to catch his breath, his heartbeat slowing as he calms down. He pulls out of her, sitting down on the bed next to her as she slowly rights herself as well.

They say nothing while she fixes her skirt to cover herself, swallowing drily around the lump that has formed in her throat. Only after she's sure that she has erased every visible trace of her complete disappointment from her face does she chance a look at him.

He seems somewhat relieved—the haunted look is still somewhat present in his eyes, but not as obviously as before—and the fact he seems better than when she entered his room makes her feel a bit better.

She manages a small smile then, touching a gentle hand to his cheek.

"Feel any better now, Dai-chan?"

Her short, innocent question seemed to break him out of his trance. His face contorted in a look of horror that she had never seen him wear before.

His mouth opened, his lips moving but no words forming for a few moments.

"Satsuki—" he croaked out. "Did you—? You didn't—?"

His voice trailed off and he couldn't finish either of his questions. But from the dismayed look he was giving her, she could guess what he wanted to ask.

The smile she gave him was a bitter one, but she did her best to smile regardless.

If she didn't, she was afraid she might cry and, honestly, no one would want that.

"No," she responds in a quiet whisper.

He spends a full minute staring at her, shell-shocked, speechless. His mouth is agape and his eyes are wide with horror. Horror as realization hits him.

His face jerks out of her gentle hand's touch when he moves to place his head in his hands. His buries his face in his palms, his knuckles turning white from the pressure he applies.

"Oh, god, Satsuki. I'm so sorry…" he moans out in dejection. "I'm the worst."

A tiny, tiny part of her agrees with him.

She squashes it underfoot.

"What the _fuck_ am I doing, raping my own girlfriend… and then not even letting her come? I'm worse than the worst."

This makes Satsuki's eyes widen. Not only is the self-deprecating comment something she never expected to hear from her boyfriend, the way he hunches over, aghast, alarms her.

"Hey, hey, hey," she interjects before he can dig himself into an even deeper hole. "I never said 'No', did I?" she points out helpfully, and emphasises her point as she pulls his hands away from his face so she can look at him. "You were just… a bit too fast, that's all."

That's the most agreeable terms she can put it in.

Daiki shakes his head, but refuses to let go of the sides of his face.

"You weren't ready. I should've—I should've done better by you. I hurt you—I'm so, so sorry, Satsuki."

The hand he places over hers on his cheek grasps hers so tightly she barely suppresses a pained wince. Instead of feeling better over her frustrated needs, though, seeing Daiki so earnestly repentant makes her worry.

"I'm a horrible person. I used you for my own gratification. I'm the lowest of the low. I'm so sorry, Satsuki. So very, very, very sorry."

It's then that he starts to scare her.

Well, sure, what he'd pulled was endlessly selfish, and, yes, she could agree that he'd basically used her as a tool for just bringing his own release. And even though she'd been worked up, he didn't allow her to come before finishing himself; didn't take care of her after either.

But, _still_, that didn't warrant such serious apologies.

Or, rather, even though it _did_, he didn't have to look so scarily _distraught_.

Gosh, it's not like someone _died_ or anything!

"Daiki. Daiki!" She calls to him when he refuses to look at her even as she steers his face to fix his gaze with hers. "What's wrong, Daiki? Why are you so upset? What happened while I was gone?"

He stares at her for a few minutes, his lips a taut line. When she starts thinking that he won't answer her at all, he shakes his head and exhales slowly through his nose.

"My…" he starts shakily. "My mom, she…" He swallows drily. "She had a stroke."

Satsuki's eyes widen.

"They took her to a hospital, but they…" He loses his words mid-sentence again. She can see how much it takes out of him to voice even as much. "They don't know if she'll make it."

His face adopts such a broken expression that all thoughts of their sexual misadventure fly right out of her mind.

"And I honestly don't know what to do with myself…" he confesses quietly, trying to worm out of her grasp. "As if that wasn't bad enough, I ended up hurting you, too. I just—"

She silences him with a rough kiss to the lips. She doesn't let it last—this is really not the moment for mistimed displays of affection—she does it just as long as it stops his tirade.

She doesn't want to hear him say these things.

She doesn't want him to _think_ them.

She can only imagine what was going on in his head—in his _heart_—before she walked into that room.

She no longer even blames him for pulling such an asshole stunt on her. He'd been distraught and needy and scared and he had sought solace in her, in their intimacy.

She just wishes he had told her this before he jumped her.

She would've been much more adequate at consoling him, if he had.

When she parts from the kiss she forces on him, she rests her forehead against his, breathing slowly through her nose. She sees the guilty expression on his face and it makes her heart ache.

She buries her hands in the short spikes of his hair, gently massaging his scalp.

"Shhh, it's all right. Everything will be fine," she promises quietly. "Auntie will be all right, you'll see. Don't worry, Dai-chan. Everything will be okay."

He starts shaking in her embrace. His head falls to the crook of her neck. She puts an arm around his shoulders, holding him closer to her, while her other still rests in his hair. She holds him tight and begins gently rocking him back and forth in a soothing motion.

They don't say anything for a long time afterwards. He doesn't cry but she can feel the tension in his shoulders. His whole being is wired, strained.

She's never seen him this upset. She can only imagine that, if he had ever felt like this when they were friends, instead of clinging onto her like a drowning man to a straw as he was right now, he had probably walked away to deal with his problems on his own.

The mere thought made her heart clench painfully. She'd always known that Dai-chan was passionate.

But she had never known that there were things in the world capable of shaking him this badly.

She wants to hold him tighter, comfort him, soothe his worries away, wish his turmoil out of his system.

And at the same time she wants to hit him, _hard_, because _stupid, stupid Daiki_, always bottling up his feelings and refusing to let her just _be there_ for him when he needs her to.

How stupid could one person get?!

"Satsuki?" he whispers after god knows how many minutes spent in tortured silence.

"Hmm?" she hums while stroking relaxing circles in his back.

"I really am very sorry."

She smiles against his shoulder—this time, the expression comes easily, naturally, genuinely.

"I know."

When he's calmer, his arms move around to embrace her as well. His hold is firm and tight and it borders on bruising but she doesn't mind. Instead, she holds him tighter to herself as well.

"Satsuki?"

"Hmm?"

"Don't leave tonight."

She presses a kiss to the column of his neck in a gesture of reassurance.

"I won't."

Another long pause steels over them.

"I promise I will make this up to you." His voice is quieter than she's ever heard it.

Still, it makes her smile against his skin.

"Okay," she agrees just as quietly.

* * *

She's right and his mom is stable the very next day. They go to visit and the face-splitting grin he wears from ear to ear as he hugs his mother on her hospital bed almost makes her cry in relief because _this_ was how things were supposed to be.

Still, the whole ordeal goes to show her how little she's known her boyfriend in some senses. It shakes the very foundations of the way she perceives the world to know that he can care so much, and be so deeply distraught, when anything happens to his dearest people.

It makes her see him in a whole new light.

The escapade also serves as a lesson to both of them.

Because it's just the first from many to come after.

Daiki is a person who isn't easily affected by his surroundings. He achieves this by the simple fact that he doesn't place as much importance on events and encounters as others do.

What he cares about is people and his bonds with them. So the few things that could upset him—really upset him—are quakes in those bonds or threats to his dear people's lives.

The situations are few and far between, but they do happen.

And when they do, he always turns to her—his only saviour, the only one who understands him. The only one who can console him. The only one who can offer him a way to take his mind off of what worries him.

Only when he holds her can he forget about the world, leave behind whatever is haunting his consciousness and just lose himself in her.

And, whenever he starts undressing her in a flurry, his hands quick and urgent on her body, she _knows_. She knows that he's upset and he needs her, and she knows to act in accordance to that.

His first transgression against her serves Daiki is a severe lesson. He never allows it to repeat itself, and he assures it doesn't with such meticulous attention despite his haste and affect that it never fails to flatter her.

No matter how huge of a hurry he is in, he always makes sure to prepare her right, to give her enough time to feel ready to have him before he invades her. Sometimes he licks her folds before dipping a finger, then two, in; other times he huskily whispers obscenities in her ear, outlining his plans in the next several minutes to her in such intricate and perverse details that he has her wet and begging in no time at all.

He keeps his promise to her and makes it up to her.

She knows he will. Just as she knows he will never leave her hanging ever again.

Satsuki loves her Dai-chan. She always has, and always will. She loves him, despite all his faults and flaws, despite all the mistakes he makes against her.

She loves and forgives him because he's only human, and she knows how much he truly cares.

Most of all, she loves him because she knows his heart-melting capacity for all-encompassing passion that he shows her only at his most vulnerable moments.

* * *

A/N: This totally got away from me. I was planning to put the emphasis on the smut. And look at where I am now… Oh well. ._. I hope you liked. I'm still somewhat pleased with it, even though it didn't come out quite as I intended it to. xd Very conflicted feelings on the matter indeed. I do think I pulled off nicely the character study at the first part.

100 Situations, Table One; 077: Upset.

_14__th__ March, 2013._


	9. In a Different Light

"Tetsu-kun, you're so cool!" Satsuki enthused from the outside of the court, waving her hand excitedly to capture the attention of the boy she was addressing.

Riko observed her unbridled enthusiasm from her seat next to the pink-haired girl. The Seirin coach couldn't help a small twitch of her facial muscles as she watched the Touou manager sit back down even though her love call had gone unanswered.

"You sure are full of energy about this, even after all this time…" the coach remarked offhandedly, the twitch in the corner of her mouth still present.

Satsuki gave her a curious look.

"Of course! No matter how much time passes, Tetsu-kun is still Tetsu-kun! He's the coolest!"

The pink-haired manager went on into an impromptu Kuroko ode that Riko blocked out for the sake of her sanity.

Still, there was something she didn't understand.

"Why do you think so? That he's the coolest?" Honestly, she couldn't wrap her mind around that. How could someone surrounded by a team made up entirely of _aces_ from all over the country refer to invisible, barely worth mentioning Kuroko-kun as _the coolest_?

It just rang _wrong_, you know?

"Ehh? What are you saying, Riko-san?" Satsuki said, dragging out the syllables of her sentence. "You don't think that it's really cool how he changes into a totally different person when he plays?"

Riko sighed slowly through her nose as she turned to gaze at the boys on the field. Spotting Kuroko among the other, taller and sturdier built, guys was a feat she couldn't manage immediately and it was only through almost two years of practicing the task that she finally managed to see him.

The Seirin girl's eyes shifted slightly, fixing upon another one of the players on the court, and she gave a thoughtful hum.

"I guess you're right," she relented then.

"Right, right?" Satsuki called out, clasping her hands in front of her.

"But, Momoi-san, if it's about someone becoming like a whole different person when he plays… isn't Aomine-kun the one it applies to the most?" Riko ventured, setting her eyes on the girl she was talking to in order to gauge her reaction to her words.

The other girl's response was to blink several times in her direction in confusion. The comment obviously caught her off-guard. She then turned her gaze to look to the court again, at Daiki scoring a three-pointer while screened by Kagami.

Riko-san definitely had a point there. Off the court, Dai-chan is so tall and rather graceless when compared to the vast majority of the guys his age. His limbs are so long he more often than not appears to be lumbering along rather than walking. He's lazy and takes things so easy that it gets on the nerves of everyone.

It all changes when he takes a ball in his hands and starts playing the sport he loves more than anything else. His height becomes his advantage, his toned limbs one of his greatest strengths and his free-spiritedness a powerful weapon against most opponents. He's faster, stronger, better than anyone.

She guessed that Dai-chan really was a person her earlier statement applied to best.

At the inquisitive glance of the Seirin coach, she returned to present time. And to the fact she still hadn't responded to Riko's query.

Her lips turned into a pout, and she gave a dramatic sigh.

"Well, that may be true. But Dai-chan is just Dai-chan. Tetsu-kun, on the other hand—!"

And as she proceeded to fall into another impromptu Kuroko ode, Riko completely tuned her out.

Making any sort of point with this Kuroko-fan girl was simply impossible, she decided.

* * *

On their way back from the street ball match they'd had with Seirin's basketball club, Satsuki noticed the small smile tugging on the corners of Daiki's lips while they walked under the blazing summer sun.

"Was it fun? The game." She asked, but mostly out of courtesy – as a conversation starter. After all, she knew perfectly what the answer was even if he didn't say anything.

"Of course! Basketball is so awesome!" Daiki exulted, doing a small fist-pump in the air. "I got to play on the same team with Tetsu again for just a little while, too—it's been so long since we last did!"

At this, Satsuki's face bloomed into a fond smile as well. It sure had been long since they'd last been allies instead of opponents on the court.

Thinking of the past, she couldn't help but recall the small exchange she'd had with Riko-san earlier.

No matter how she looked at him, she just simply couldn't see Dai-chan in the light Riko-san insinuated. While she did agree that he was one of the most amazing players she'd ever seen on the field, she just couldn't label him as "cool" in the same sense as she meant it with Tetsu-kun.

Dai-chan was too… too Dai-chan for her to be able to see him as anything else but what she'd always perceived him as: her troublesome, high-maintenance childhood friend.

People often misunderstood their relationship because of the fact she went to great lengths to help him out in various ways; but she didn't like it when others thought her loyalty and sense of duty as something romantic.

Yes, she did take care of Dai-chan, but mostly because he did such a poor job of taking care of himself. He was too lax, too tardy if she wasn't there to whip him in shape. He cared too little about things that were important to society if she didn't nag him about them.

She worried for him and looked after him the same way you would look after a troublesome little brother or a small child.

But that was about all it was. She couldn't even imagine herself in a situation where he and she would be in any kind of romantic involvement. Dai-chan, a love interest? Her mind rejected it before the notion could even be properly conceived.

Although, when she considered the barren wasteland her love life currently was, she would probably be a lot better off if she could simply fall in love with someone like the Touou Ace.

She gave his profile towering next to her a searching glance. He was a lazy, thoughtless bastard and way too selfish for her taste, but at least he was _close_. She'd be able to see him all the time, to be with him all the time. And, even though it would be a different kind of 'like' than the one he'd have for her, he wouldn't push her away.

Not like Tetsu-kun did.

She heaved a sigh so deep it earned her a curious look from her childhood friend. She ignored his peering down at her as she trudged on.

It would definitely be much more convenient if she were to like someone like Dai-chan.

Too bad that you can't fall in love with people through rationalization alone, she lamented.

* * *

Satsuki surveyed the mess of papers strewn across the surface of the desk with disdain. How did she always manage to get herself into these situations…?

Well, actually, she had a perfect notion _how_ and _why_, or rather _because of whom_. She'd make sure to remind him herself, too, after she was done here. Dai-chan owed her big time for, once again, dealing with his class duties instead of him.

She'd wondered why he hadn't resisted going to practice today when she had reminded him. She'd thought that he was just feeling agreeable for once, decided to stop giving her such a hard time maybe, and just _maybe_ felt like acting a normal member of the basketball team for a change.

When she made it to the classroom where she had intended to get some data analysis done, she'd found a couple of girls from her class still lingering behind, wondering what to do with the class book left behind, unattended to by the one on duty with it for the day.

The one on duty being Dai-chan, of course.

She'd clenched her hands into fists at that and cursed him several times over in her mind. Dai-chan, you asshole—is that why you were so eager to flee to the court today?! So even troublesome basketball practice is loads better than dealing with class duties, is that it?!

She'd been angry—livid—but still, she couldn't ignore the fact that there was a job to be done. It wasn't what she'd had in mind when she asked coach Harasawa for a day off of practice—she'd wanted to work on the data of their next opponents—but she couldn't very well leave her classmates to deal with Dai-chan's selfishness on their own.

After all, cleaning after his messes was one of her main duties as his self-pronounced care-taker.

She'd told the girls that she'd take care of it – the class book. She should've reconsidered when the girls took a meaningful glance at the load of papers making the bag in her hand heavy. They didn't want to burden her with any more than she already had to deal with.

She had thanked them for their kindness but waved it off. Insisted that she was fine and this was something she was used to, so they shouldn't mind it and leave Dai-chan's work to her.

The girls didn't look very convinced but still thanked her, bowed and excused themselves for the day.

That left Satsuki alone in the room, bathed in warm colours as the late afternoon sun started to set across the horizon.

This was definitely not how she imagined the rest of her day going, and she would make sure to punish that bastard for ditching his duties later.

She stretched, arms high above her head, to crack her back before letting herself droop over the desk. She was starting to feel rather lazy and sluggish. At least she'd taken care of that idiot's work, even if she hadn't had the time to deal with the data analysis at all.

She thought she deserved a tiny break, in commemoration of that.

So Satsuki sighed slowly, crossing her arms over the desk and placing her chin on them. She'd just let her eyes rest for a moment, and then she'd get back to work.

There was something about the warm rays of the late afternoon sun that instilled her with a sense of calm and serenity, sucking the fight right out of her and lulling her to rest. So instead of struggling against its effect, she let her head loll on her arms. She savoured the feeling of comfort granted by the red and orange rays of the setting sun, letting her mind still and her breathing ease.

Soon, she was fast asleep.

* * *

The next time her eyes fluttered open, it took her hazy mind a moment to adjust. Adjust to the premise she was in, adjust to the changes of the room, adjust to accommodate the thought of how much time had passed since she'd put her head down.

While she slowly blinked her eyes open, chin still resting upon her crossed arms, Satsuki noticed that the room was no longer painted in the warm hues of the afternoon sun. The only source of light in the room was the full moon shining overhead through the large windows, casting beautiful shadows on the floor.

She woke up to a jacket much too large for her tiny frame draped over her back, making sure that the heat wouldn't leave her body too readily and keeping her warm. A familiar scent wafted to her nose from the garment.

It took Satsuki's garbled mind a moment to realize that the room was almost perfectly quiet, just as it was perfectly still. The only source of noise was the soft tune hummed by a familiar, soothing voice.

"Awake?" a familiar mouth whispered from just an arm's reach away from her.

The proximity and the sudden question gave Satsuki a start.

She sat up suddenly, blinking several times at Dai-chan sitting on the chair in front, his arm propped up on her desk as he stared at her with an unnaturally soft look in his sharp eyes.

She took in his silhouette outlined in a somewhat ephemeral way by the moonlight steaming in from the window behind him.

"You were sleeping so soundly I didn't wanna be the bad guy who stirred you, so I decided to just wait till you woke up on your own," he explained eloquently, leaning back against the desk behind him. "Come on, let's go home."

Only after he said it did she realize that he'd collected all of her papers and arranged them neatly into the bag she had carried them in. The notebook was nowhere to be seen and she could only assume that he'd gone to deposit it to the teachers' lounge before coming to wait for her to wake up.

She stared at him, lips slightly parted, as he collected his school bag and hers and started off towards the door of the classroom.

She stared and stared because it was all she could manage to do coherently while her heart fluttered in her chest.

It was truly odd. Just before she had fallen asleep, she had cursed him in every way she could think of.

But when she awoke to the sound of his voice gently humming a tune to himself, waiting for her to wake up instead of roughly stirring her awake…

And the way the light danced off his tanned skin, giving him an almost unrealistic glow.

It made her think, for the first time in her life, that he looked special.

In her eyes, in that very moment, she couldn't help but see Dai-chan—Dai-chan, whom she'd known her whole life; Dai-chan, who made her daily life an almost character-building torture—in a whole different light.

Just a little while ago, there had been nothing there. And then suddenly, it was like he was a whole different person to her.

She fisted her fingers in the edges of his jacket as she picked herself up clumsily from her seat at the desk. She pulled on the garment, until she effectively buried herself within in, trying to hide herself away from his view.

At the same time she did her best to ignore the hammering of her heart against her ribcage as the sound of his humming reached her ears again while they walked off in direction of their houses.

Throughout the whole trek there, the only thing she could think of was, 'What am I going to do? I'm in trouble…'

* * *

Falling in love is an odd thing. Especially when the one you end up falling for is someone you've known a long time before falling in love with them. It's funny, because nothing actually changes, and yet everything does.

To begin with, not much is understood by humans, about the dynamics of this thing called "love". That is evident in the numerous studies and commentaries, and all other sorts of explorations the phenomenon garners from people of various kinds of professions. Everyone's definitions of it, of "love", are different, focusing on different aspects of it—because it's a vast term, encompassing many, many different things. Maybe that's why it is so elusive to grasp.

Still, even less is understood about the hows and whys of the act of falling in love. For example, Satsuki doubted there could be anyone in the world who could explain to her, in a perfectly reasonable and sensible way, how it was physically possible for her to think of someone as nothing but a friend in one moment and then—for no reason at all—suddenly see him in a whole different light.

Falling in love is something she's done before. She fell in love with Tetsu in middle school, and, although it hadn't exactly been a walk in the park, it had been _easy_. Loving Tetsu. Even though he didn't reciprocate her feelings. Even though he never gave her definite answers to her confessions. Even though he pushed her away without really pushing her away.

Loving Tetsu had been reassuring. It had been easy in the sense she could act upon her feelings and, even though they went unanswered, never quite reaching him, she could display them, vent them.

Falling in love with Daiki—if that was even what this was—was nowhere near so simple.

He was her best friend. She had loved him long before she had fallen in love with him. It made matters even more complicated in her mind.

She started wondering how she had been acting before this—before all this happened. She wondered how she should act now.

She was self-conscious of every movement she made in his presence.

She was, because she didn't want him to know.

She didn't, because it would only complicate things between them, and she didn't want that.

Daiki was a simple person. Thinking wasn't one of his strong suits. She didn't want to worry him; she didn't want to burden him.

So she decided to keep her mouth shut. To begin with, she wasn't even sure that these… feelings, this stifling tension in her chest was even love. The love she knew, after all, was not this complicated, not this confusing.

The more time passed, the more she found her eyes following him everywhere. She noticed how much more observant she was of everything he did, how meticulously she catalogued in her mind any and every movement he made.

She had become more aware of him, of his existence, than she had ever been before.

It's only when her heart starts beating loud when he's next to her, leaning against her or draping an arm over her shoulders while he's mooching off her lunch that she knows. She knows for sure what those feelings are.

She knows because she feels nervous and excited, strung with trepidation when he's around. Her gaze follows his form, and no longer does he seem graceless and something of an eyesore. When he talks, she pays attention even to the most unimportant things he says. She can't help listening raptly to anything and everything that leaves his mouth. The sound of his voice makes the hairs at the nape of her neck stand on end.

Falling in love with someone you've known a long time, Satsuki discovers, is a painful, painful thing. It makes you painfully aware of that person's every move, of their every sound, of their every gesture.

And it makes you even more agonizingly aware of how little they care about yours.

* * *

Satsuki used to think that, if she could fall for someone close by like Dai-chan, it would solve a lot of her problems with her love life.

How naïve of her to believe such nonsense.

* * *

They were walking to school one day, on a day just like any other.

He was half a pace ahead of her, hands jammed in his Touou jacket pockets. He yawned widely—in a fashion reminiscent of a lion or other large feline—before closing his mouth and glaring at the road ahead of them.

"Mornings are such a pain. Whoever came up with morning classes should be stabbed to death several times over," he grouched and she couldn't help a small giggle.

When she realized she'd laughed, she stopped walking.

It took Daiki several strides to realize that she was not right behind him anymore. When he did, he turned around and threw her a quizzical look.

"What are you doing, Satsuki? I thought you didn't want to be late for class," he teased but with how tired his voice sounded, the effect was completely lost.

His friend paid him no heed. She was clutching on to the strap of her school bag, eyes pinned to the asphalt under their feet.

Her breathing was shallow with concentration. Her knuckles were turning white from the amount of pressure she was exerting, holding onto the fabric of the bag.

Daiki straightened his posture a bit, tilting his head in confusion at her. What was up with her so early in the morning?

"Dai-chan," she began and he gave her a noncommittal grunt to let her know he was listening.

She took her time continuing. It unnerved him more than he was willing to admit.

"If…" she started, but her voice faltered. "If I were to tell you…" she tried again and stopped midsentence when he turned to fully face her, hands in his pockets, brows quirked and questioning look scrunching his face up.

She pressed her lips together and steeled her nerves.

"It's just a 'what if' question," she told him, slowly, lest she should trip over her words again. "But if I were to tell you that I like you—that I'm… in love with you…" She tried to speak the last words with more strength than she had for voicing them, but she still pushed on. They rolled off her tongue like a secret, and she slowly, shyly lifted her gaze to look at him from underneath pretty, long eyelashes. "What would you do?"

He stared at her so intently that she couldn't help but start feeling nervous under his scrutiny.

"What kind of question is that?" he finally said, one brow rising higher than the other in nonplus.

She gave him a coy smile, hoping it didn't come off as a grimace in her nervousness.

"Just a 'what if' situation," she said in what she thought was a reassuring tone. "Humour me?"

Daiki surveyed her a while longer, with that same indifferent expression on his face.

He watched her as she shifted her weight to her other foot, the tension coming off her in waves. She didn't push him any further for an answer but he knew that she was waiting for it.

She was _eager_ to hear it.

Who did she think she was talking to, anyway? Did she honestly believe she could fool him with this kind of acting? What a joke.

Still, he bit back on all the sarcastic and scathing comments he could make in this situation. Instead he continued staring at her, weighing his words carefully.

As he looked on, his gaze took on an edge of that smouldering intensity only someone as sharp as Aomine Daiki could manage. Not used to be the one on the receiving end of it, Satsuki swallowed drily but refused to allow her instinct to run away from this conversation overwhelm her. She refused to lose her nerve, or Dai-chan would know for sure what was going on (if he didn't already).

She felt like an eternity passed before he said or _moved_, for that matter. She was starting to wonder whether he planned on responding to her question at all. Did he forget what she'd asked, maybe?

When he went on to remove his hands from his pockets, never once breaking eye contact, Satsuki felt her heart skip a beat. And then, as he moved to take a step back, closer to her, her breath hitched in her throat.

"Well, _if_ that happens," he began languidly, hunching over slightly so that he brought his face closer to her eye level. "First I'd take a goooood, long look at you, to make sure whether you're teasing or messing with me."

He was so close to her face, his nose mere inches away from her own, that she wondered if perhaps he could hear the rapid rate at which her heart was beating at.

"And if I decide that you're definitely not just saying that to make fun of me…" he trailed off, enjoying the way she sucked on a breath, expectant.

"If you decide… then what?" she murmured, just barely above a whisper.

"Then…" he breathed out, and she felt a shiver rake her spine when his breath fanned against her cheek.

She was grateful for the pause he'd made, because it gave her time to focus back on their conversation instead of his proximity to her body.

That was, at least, until his lips curled into a smirk that made her forget to breathe once again. How could she never have noticed before how handsome that smirk was?

"Then, I'd kiss you," he told her, confidently, unabashedly. He straightened his back, standing upright again, never breaking eye contact while he moved. "With tongue," he added with a mischievous glint in his gaze.

He savoured the blush that spread across her cheeks, and her speechlessness as her lips parted slightly in what he assumed was surprise at his response.

He smirk morphed into a smile—soft, kind, reassuring—one he rarely allowed on his face anymore.

One he saved only for her.

"And if you enjoy it… I guess we'll go from there."

He turned around and started walking off at a leisurely pace, giving her time to regain her sense of the present.

"But it's just a 'what if' story, anyway," he reminded her, a wolfish grin spreading on his lips.

The words brought Satsuki back to reality and made realization dawn on her. As it did, she chastised herself for the intermittent rate of her heart beat, tried her best to compose herself before jogging up to fall into stride with Daiki.

"Yep, just a 'what if'," she agreed with a smile so bright and pretty it should be criminal.

His hands were back in his pockets and the serious aura he'd had earlier completely gone, but somehow that made it easier for Satsuki to loop her arm with his, hanging onto his limb as she proceeded to tell him about her expectations of him for the day and that she won't stand for him ditching his duties or practice again.

He laughed heartily at that continued trudging on to school with small strides so that he wouldn't break Satsuki's pace.

She had spoken out because she had been uncertain and tired of feeling insecure.

She was so _tired_ of being the only one feeling burdened.

But their "what if" talk made her think that maybe, just maybe, some of these days it would be good to raise this topic again.

Without the excuse of it being a "what if" conversation.

* * *

A/N: Yes, I just went there. I went and incorporated one of the key moments in the beginning of Kare Kano (Kareshi Kanojo no Jijyou) into a Daiki/Satsuki story. Go ahead, try to complain. See if I hear!

Joke aside, I just had to do this. And, although I do believe I did pull it off well enough, I get a feeling that it's somewhat off from what I imagined. Is that weird? And, in case anyone was left in a misunderstanding, even though Satsuki only recently started seeing Daiki in a different light, he felt that way longer than she had. But had simply decided to do the same thing she had, because he knew that even if he told her his feelings, that wouldn't end well.

Hope you liked anyway!

100 Situations, Table One; 048: Light.

_16__th__ March, 2013._


	10. Morning Call

A/N: Oh, lookie. Double-digit chapter. I almost can't believe it myself, haha.

* * *

Daiki had the perfect plan.

Although, it wasn't much of a plan. It was more of a convenient turn of events.

His parents were out of town, so there was no one to kick him out of bed in the morning. And, when considering his hatred for morning classes and particularly Mondays, he had the perfect plan to stay in bed and sleep as long as he wanted before he ever deigned school with his presence.

And he'd only do that if he felt really generous.

It was supposed to be the perfect plan.

It most certainly didn't involve a certain pink-haired monster barging into his room at the wee hours of the morning, calling his name in a volume so high for this kind of hour that it was almost obscene.

"Daaaaa-iiiiii-chaaaan!" she dragged out every syllable in a sing-song tone. "It's morning! Wake up, already!"

He swore to God, he'd never paid it much attention but her voice sounded shriller than the most annoying things he had ever heard in his life at that very moment.

In response to her call, he simply turned to give her his back, throwing a pillow over his head to block out her obnoxious voice as best as he could.

Satsuki huffed, putting her hands on her hips as she surveyed Daiki critically, burrowed deep into his covers.

"Oh, come on, Dai-chan, stop acting like such a kid and start getting ready for school," she told him as she tried to pry the pillow away from his head.

Thankfully, while he was still sleepy and irritated, he couldn't seem to coordinate his limbs or muscles very well because she ended up prying the item out of his hold after a brief scuffle.

Once she did, she gave him a victorious smirk that threatened to erupt into a full-blown grin at the sour look she saw him throwing her from the bed underneath.

"Go away, Satsuki," Daiki grouched in a deeply displeased tone. He opted for throwing the covers higher over his body in the absence of his pillow, doing his best to will her away.

Satsuki stifled a giggle against her dainty hand, holding his pillow with her other.

"Oh, I ain't going anywhere until you get up and start getting ready for school. Auntie's orders," she added as an afterthought, but it definitely had the effect that she intended.

She was Daiki stiffen under the covers, and she could imagine he was already glaring moodily through bleary eyes at the wall next to his bed.

"Yep, Auntie was perfectly sure that you'd try to ditch school while she and Uncle are out of town for their business trip. So she called to ask me to come over in the mornings and make sure you were up and dressed on time for school, instead of loafing around the whole day," she explained it so smoothly as though she were telling him she was taking him to the park, then for takeout and that he'd enjoy every step of the way.

Daiki glared ill-temperedly at the wall in front of him, begging the gods for some patience.

He was _not_ a morning person, and this was definitely one of his worst mornings ever already.

It took every ounce of self-control he had not to swat away at her hands when she started trying to pull his covers from his body.

"Come on, Dai-chan, stop resisting. We don't have all day," she told him in that lecturing tone he so despised. "You're already wide awake, so you might as well go wash up and get dressed."

Well, she certainly got that right. He was so irked that he doubted he'd be able to fall asleep even if he tried to.

He shrugged her hands off of his comforter before sitting up in bed. He threw her the most venomous glare he could manage as he sat upright in his bed.

"I hate you so much right now," he told her in a tone so cold it could chill someone to the bones.

Satsuki, though, only laughed good-naturedly, ushering him out of the comfort of his bed.

"Yes, yes, I know, you hate waking up early and you hate me for making you do it. I'm sorry for ruining your plans of playing hooky for a week. Now will you _please_ be so kind of wash up and get ready for school?"

He glared at her some more but proceeded to head towards the bathroom down the hall to brush his teeth and wash his face. He was sure there was some way he would be able to get back at her for this—he just didn't know it yet.

* * *

Not even ten minutes later, he ventured slowly back into his room—still feeling really crabby but more awake than he was before leaving the premise—to find that Satsuki had pulled the curtains and opened his window while he was gone.

She'd even made his bed and was using the iron on his crumpled uniform.

He gave her a weird look.

"What the hell are you doing?" he demanded imperiously, making her look up from the shirt she was ironing.

"Well, the way you left your uniform after coming back Friday left it completely wrinkled. And your mom instructed me to take good care of you while she was gone, so I thought I could iron these till you're done in the bathroom," she told him with a smile on her face while finishing ironing his Touou jacket. "There, all done!" she exulted as she put the iron away. "Now get dressed!"

Frankly, this was starting to get a bit disturbing. It's not like this was the first time Satsuki dropped by to drag him to school in the morning. Usually, she came at a later hour, though—after his mom had woken him up and had him dressed and almost out the door.

This, though—this was weird and kind of creepy.

The merry tune she was humming to herself under her breath probably had something to do with the creepy feeling she instilled in him.

Still, he decided he might as well do as instructed. She _did_ go out her way to iron his clothes, after all.

Once he was done dressing and putting his books in his bag, Daiki stepped down to the ground floor. He couldn't see Satsuki anywhere in the living room and found that odd. There was no way she'd go this far without making sure he was out the door and into school grounds before she left him be.

Before he had any time to consider other possibilities, the scent of something burning caught Daiki's attention.

"Huh? Now this is strange," a sheepish voice called from the kitchen.

He took the distance to the stove in record time.

There he found Satsuki hunched over the frying pan placed on the hotplate, with something charred in it. He turned the hot plate off and put the pan away before anything could burst into flames.

"What the hell were you doing?" he demanded, still in slight panic, as he tried to do some damage control in the kitchen. He opened the windows wide to aerate the room from the stench of the burnt dish.

"I thought that making breakfast before we go might be a good idea, since your mom always tells me that breakfast is the most important meal of the day. I thought I followed the instructions perfectly, but then why did it turn such a funny colour?"

Daiki shook his head and rubbed the bridge of his nose as he listened to her explanation. In doing so, however, he ended up looking at the reading on his wrist watch, which told him there was still plenty of time before they had to leave for school.

As he surveyed her critically—for the umpteenth time today—it finally occurred to him that she was perfectly dressed and prepared for school. That, in itself, was much of a wonder, considering that's where she planned on dragging him to. The fact that came as a surprise to him was the realization that she must've been up extra early in order to get ready herself, dress and come over before she woke him up early enough to even plan for breakfast.

The glare in his eyes softened as he look at her troubled profile. She was touching an index finger to her cheek thoughtfully, brows knitted together in nonplus.

"How many times must I tell you stay out of the damn kitchen…? You know that this always happens," he grouched, a sigh tearing from his chest.

"I really thought I had it this time…" she murmured, dismayed over her complete incompetence when it came to using the kitchen.

Daiki heaved another deep sigh and reached out to get the other frying pan from one of the higher shelves in the kitchen.

"Just go sit down. I'll make breakfast," he told her in a tone that left no room for arguments.

Ten more minutes later, Satsuki was looking at a table with two bowls of steaming white rice, some vegetables and two plates of scrambled eggs placed in front of each of them. Her eyes widened in admiration as Daiki put a fork in front of her.

"Whoa, this looks really good!" she enthused, grabbing the fork and practically shovelling some eggs into her mouth. She made a sound of complete delight, while Daiki sat down and dug into his own meal. "Wow, Dai-chan, this is so delicious!"

He gave her an unconvinced grimace while he chewed on his food.

"It's just eggs and rice. It's no big deal." It was true, too. The fact she was such a disaster in the kitchen that she couldn't even pull of a dish so simple didn't make him chef material for being able to do it properly.

"No, no, this is awesome!" she insisted, grabbing forkfuls of her meal and jovially and thoroughly chewing them in her mouth. "Dai-chan, you'll make a great wife for someone!"

She'd just been kidding, but she didn't miss the scathing glare he threw her after she said that.

"Sadly, I don't think I can say the same for you," he informed her waspishly just as he was finishing his meal.

She smiled brightly, completely unfazed by his hostility and the jerkiness of his movements while he took her empty plates from in front of her.

"That's all right. I won't be able to cook, but I'll excel at all the other wifely duties, so I'm sure he'll forgive me," she said in a merry tone.

The way she leaned forward after she said that, accentuating the ampleness of her bust, made him hurry to look away back to the plates he was washing in the sink.

Her smile just before he'd looked away had been so cheeky and suggestive that he couldn't help the slight flush rising in his cheeks.

"Do you even know what you're saying, stupid?" he grumbled to himself while he rinsed the kitchen utensils with more fervour than absolutely necessary.

In being so adamant at facing away from her, he completely missed the wide grin that stretched her full lips. Yes, she could say that teasing Dai-chan like this in the mornings could definitely become one of her favourite pastimes.

She was most certainly going to enjoy the morning calls she'd give him in the upcoming week.

* * *

A/N: The whole story was built around the "You'll make a great wife to someone" thing. Yes. Yes, that was the whole point. I know, I'm a sad creature; _forgive me._ ;A;

Not much of a point to this story. I just like the idea of having an episode on this collection of their mornings together when they're still friends. Though, Satsuki probably has other feelings for him in here. Or, at least, the stirrings of such? Oh well, never mind – hope you enjoyed it even if it's completely pointless. xD

I'll even give you a little omake as a peace offering!

* * *

**OMAKE~**

* * *

"Can't you at least do _something_ about the way you come in to wake me?" Daiki grumbled irately after he figured out that there was no way he'd dissuade her out of coming to wake him every day until his parents came back.

Satsuki threw him a curious look as she walked next to him on their path to school.

"What do you mean?" she asked innocently, obviously completely oblivious to the damage she was doing earlier.

Daiki's expression turned sourer.

"I mean, you can't just _barge_ into someone's room in the morning and start _screaming_ at them to wake up. It's bad manners," he informed her nonchalantly. She blinked several times at his displeased profile.

"Dai-chan, hearing you, of all people, say that is seriously unconvincing," she told him and he almost tripped over his own feet.

He threw her a sideways glare once he fell back into pace.

"If you continue doing what you're doing in the mornings to me for a week, I'll end up with deep emotional trauma by Saturday," he told her before increasing the length and speed of his strides.

Satsuki hummed thoughtfully, giving the notion some consideration. She jogged up to join him once she did.

"So how does Auntie wake you in the morning?"

Daiki rolled his eyes.

"I don't want you imitating my mother. You don't need to try to substitute her either. Just… figure out a less obtrusive way to wake people up, okay?"

Satsuki gave another thoughtful hum, falling behind him when she slowed her walking.

A less obtrusive way to wake someone up, huh…

* * *

Tuesday morning found Satsuki letting herself into the Aomine household with the help of the spare key Mrs Aomine had left in her care while she and her husband were out of town.

The pink-haired manager left her shoes at the door, discarding her school bag at one of the kitchen chairs as well while she made her way towards Dai-chan's room.

She wasn't sure how much of his "emotional trauma by the end of the week" nonsense was true, but she did guess that the "Come on, Dai-chan, wake up!" yelling was definitely not a very nice way to stir him from sleep. Especially when considering how bad he was at dealing with waking up early.

So, instead of barging into his room like she had the previous day, she opened the door as quietly as she could, letting herself in practically on her tip-toes. She closed the door as carefully as she opened it, making her way slowly to his bed.

His covers were pulled up only up to his waist and she could see the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he slept soundly, obviously undisturbed by her presence in the premise.

She walked over to his bed and sat as carefully as she could on its edge. She put her arm on the other side of him, as she lowered herself over his sleeping form.

"Dai-chan. Dai-chan, wake up," she said, barely above a whisper.

And after she did, she realized that, if she woke him up like this, she might end up giving him a fright.

At least, that was the rationalization she gave to the fact she ended up lowering her head further, until her lips connected with his cheek. She definitely didn't do it because he looked so adorable when he was completely defenceless and endearing while he was asleep.

"Daiki, wake up," she said with a bit more strength in her tone. He made a sound in his sleep and turned a little, starting to stir. "It's morning. Come on, we have to go to school."

He murmured something, his eyes starting to blink open and, honestly, she couldn't help herself this time. She lowered her head to press another soft kiss to his cheek.

When she straightened again, his head was turned to her and he was blinking up at her with bleary, half-lidded eyes. She managed to contain the giggle from escaping her but not the grin that stretched her lips.

"Wake up," she told him again with a kind smile, brushing her fingers against the side of his face and temple. "We're gonna be late if you don't get a move on soon."

She savoured the way realization seemed to dawn on him that the feeling against his cheek earlier had been of her kissing him awake.

She also relished the triumphant feeling she felt when she saw the blush creep up his neck and cheeks while she kept standing over him, effectively trapping him between herself and the mattress. (Frankly, she'd never known he could blush with that tan complexion of his, so she took his reaction as bonus points for herself.)

She didn't need to ask him to know whether he still believed he'd get emotional trauma by the end of the week.

The look on his face told her in more words than he would ever use that he believed this was a vast improvement of her morning call skills.

* * *

100 Situations, Table One; 078: Kitchen.

_18th March, 2013._


	11. Club Policy

The first time Kise raised the topic, Daiki scoffed and shot him down immediately.

"No," was his curt, non-negotiable answer.

He also made to proceed with his activities before Kise's interruption to drive his point home.

His point, of course, being that he had absolutely no interest in Kise's blather.

"Oh, come on, _please_, Aominecchi?" the blonde whined—that's right, outright _whined_—as he grabbed hold of Daiki's sleeve before the Touou ace could brush past him. "It would really, really help me out if you agreed to this for me. Please?"

The model then gave him one of his most convincing puppy dog eyed looks, obviously believing that pleading in this way with the navy-haired male was going to change his opinion.

Daiki opened his mouth to tell Kise exactly how well his grimace was working out for his cause when he noticed something. Rather, it was brought to his notice from the muted giggle that flitted to his sensitive ears.

What Daiki noticed was that throughout this whole charade, Satsuki had stayed quiet. Her sudden giggle attack made him roll his eyes to fix on her face.

He saw her pressing her fingers daintily to her lips, trying—in vain—to suppress her laughter.

"_What_?" he snapped at her then, bringing her out of her reverie.

His outburst directed Kise's attention to her, too, and he gave the two childhood friends an inquisitive look, feeling very much out of the loop.

"Nothing," she said but neither of her male companions bought it. "It's just—" A snort of a laugh punctured her words and then she couldn't hold it in anymore.

She burst out laughing, trying her best to be as dignified about it, but failing miserably. Especially when she ended up smacking a hand to her knee in an 'I give up' kind of fashion. She continued laughing under the intense scrutiny of the two basketball aces, the gaze of one growing increasingly puzzled with every passing second, and the expression of the other growing increasingly sourer over the span of her outburst.

Once she calmed down, there were tears springing from the corner of her eyes.

"I'm sorry," she apologized and thought she sounded sincere. She was convincing nobody as she barely suppressed a new wave of giggles. "It's just that—" To her credit, this time she did a better job at containing her laughing fit than the last time she attempted it. "Imagining Dai-chan as a host—Oh damn, I'm going to start laughing again."

Truthfully, when Kise first mentioned it, Daiki already made up his mind on the spot to turn him down. After all, what business of Aomine's was it that Kise needed a couple of months training as a host in order to be convincing in his first movie role?

Better yet, what did Daiki care that Kise felt insecure and lost and felt the need to cling to another familiar person while he started out a new temporary job?

Not to mention, Aomine wasn't generally a person who accommodated others' whimsies. He only went along with other people's nonsense only if it suited his own desires.

Becoming a host was definitely _not_ on Daiki's agenda, thank you very much.

He already had his hands full with basketball practice and willing himself to go to school every day. Apparently, being a third-year at Touou supposed that he should set a better example for the underclassmen. Also, his mother seemed to think that it was about time she made sure that he thought of compulsory education as strictly _compulsory_ as well.

But the biggest and most important argument of all, was that Daiki didn't _care_ about this host bullshit to even consider giving it a try.

Satsuki's reaction, however, pushed his buttons in a way that no amount of begging and puppy dog eyes on Kise's part would ever be able to achieve.

"And just what is so funny about that?" he demanded in a taut voice and a tight-lipped quip.

The pink-haired manager threw him an almost incredulous look over her (needlessly fancy and huge) non-alcoholic cocktail.

"Are you kidding?" she queried, laughter bubbling in her voice. The deadpan look on Daiki face and the glare in his eyes told her he wasn't. "Hosts are supposed to be kind, polite, charming and gentlemanly. They flatter girls, and pay them compliments, serving them with a smile and making intelligent conversation about things their _companions_ care about, and need to look sharp."

Daiki's eyes narrowed at that, and Satsuki quirked a finely shaped eyebrow at him.

"Dai-chan, you can do _none_ of those." After a critical once-over of his frame—which, by the way, served to only infuriate him further—she added, "Well, I _guess_ you could probably look sharp if you put some effort in it, but the rest is impossible for you."

She proceeded to take a large sip of her drink through her long straw, ignoring the seething glare she was receiving from her childhood friend.

"Really now?" Daiki began, his hand clenching into a tight fist on the table. "And thinking of me trying to do something so out of character as being a host in a club makes you laugh _so hard_ that you end up crying?"

The reminder made her giggle again, which in turn made her childhood friend bristle with indignation.

"Yeah," she agreed with a small nod, taking another sip of her drink. She eyed him curiously through her thick eyelashes, noticing for the first time the firmly set line his lips were in. "What?" she asked this time, oblivious to the damage she had caused.

"Kise," Daiki began, making the other boy start.

"Yes!" the model all but squeaked out, his voice strained.

Throughout their entire exchange he had chosen to remain silent for fear of making matters even worse. He wasn't entirely sure what had been going on, but he did have a sneaking suspicion that it was not good to interfere with it—whatever it was.

"Sign me up for it." At the nonplussed looks from both his companions at the table, Daiki gave Kise a snarl. "I'll do the host thing with you, like you wanted me to. I'm in."

It took Ryouta a few seconds to wrap his mind around his friend's words. When he did, Daiki found a hard time fending the blonde off of himself as the model tried to hug him and, judging by the way his head was reclined, possibly even kiss him in gratitude.

"Thank you, Aominecchi!" he wailed out as he kept trying to hug his once-teammate.

Satsuki made a thoughtful hum as she surveyed the boys engaged in an improvised tug of war with each other. Dai-chan as a host, huh? Now this was something she'd have to see first-hand.

After all, if the _notion_ of it was so funny, the real thing—she was convinced—would be _hilarious_.

* * *

That same evening, upon arriving home, Daiki slammed the front door shut rather forcefully behind him. He still felt ill-tempered about Satsuki's ridiculing him in the café, and the condescending little giggle she had hidden behind her hand when they separated to go into their respective houses had definitely not helped her case.

"Welcome home, Daiki," his mother called to him from the kitchen.

"Yeah, I'm back," he muttered, still somewhat displeased, but his anger simmering down now that he was back to the comfort of his home.

You know, where his _loving_ and _supporting_ family was, no _inconsiderate_ friends around.

"Are you okay? You seem miffed," his mom surmised, stirring the dish being cooked on the stove with a metal ladle. "Did you have a fight with Sacchan again?" she ventured an educated guess, understanding dawning in her eyes at the look her son gave her.

"I'm fine, just tired from practice," he assured the woman as he made his way up the stairs towards his room. Once at the stairs, he stopped mid-step, turning to look over his shoulder at his mother in their small kitchen. "I'm going to start coming home a bit later these days, mom. Going to start a part time job. So you won't need to make me any supper."

He seemed to believe that was enough explanation as he proceeded to climb the stairs only to be stopped by his mother calling out to him.

"This is the first time I hear you wanting to work," she reasoned as she continued watching the pot. "And, besides, what kind of work keeps you out so late?"

"I'm going to spend a couple of months as a host," he told her matter-of-factly with a noncommittal shrug and turned to climb the stairs towards his room.

He hardly even noticed the metallic _clank_ of the ladle hitting the floor after having slipped through his mother's stiff fingers.

* * *

After a brief verbal scuffle with his mother—focused solely on the topic of hosts and his eligibility or otherwise to be one as long as he was living under the woman's roof—Daiki retreated to his room to his room to do a quick once-over of his wardrobe.

Upon a thorough search, he was once again reminded that he owned barely anything other than sports pants and jerseys. That would most certainly not do. He was sure that if he showed up at whatever club Kise was going to be working at, dressed like that, the people there would throw him out faster than he would able to make any kind of excuse for himself.

That thought reminded him of Satsuki's reaction and he felt that jab of annoyance boil up inside him again.

His father's wardrobe it was then.

* * *

After a quick search of his father's clothes, Daiki managed to find only a navy shirt that was to his taste. The rest of his father's garments either didn't fit him or didn't suit him at all.

The Touou ace heaved a sigh. He guessed he'd have to go shopping tomorrow for some clothes fitting of his new work place.

* * *

His eyes widened in surprise when he saw Kise waiting by the school gates of Touou High the next day. When he approached, the blonde saluted him merrily, the joy coming off of him in waves.

"Hey, Aominecchi!" the model greeted and Daiki did his best to ignore the myriad female gazes fixed upon the two of them.

He'd always found it quite fascinating how Kise could stand to be the centre of attention of so many stares without breaking out in cold sweat. The blonde still had leagues to go before he could be Daiki's equal on the court (and he maintained this was _not_ denial on his part), but the navy-haired boy had to give it to his counterpart that he was definitely something when it came to his modelling work.

"Yo, Kise," he greeted noncommittally, trying his best to be nonchalant. "What are you doing here?"

Ryouta grinned, showing rows of pearly white teeth. He threw an arm around Daiki's shoulders before he could say anything else.

"I'm here to cover your image-change expenses!"

Daiki's puzzled expression and an undignified "Haa?" was all the response the dark haired teen could manage before getting hauled off by his arm by a very eager Kise.

* * *

Image-change expenses, as it turned out, was code for 'We're going shopping'.

Even though his initial—instinctive—reaction had been to resist, Daiki soon relented and just went along with Ryouta's pace. After all, he had never bought this kind of stuff and he didn't even know what he'd need, so the presence of someone a bit more into this business was probably going to prove helpful, right?

_Wrong_.

Daiki expected to go home with a new pair of pants, maybe a suit coat and another shirt at most.

He ended up dragging about half a store's worth of bags.

No matter how much he insisted against it, Kise had maintained that he needed appropriate shoes to go with his new pants. The blonde had also assured him that having just one single shirt was unacceptable and had gone ahead to choose another three more for him.

The third tie, Daiki believed, was a bit of a stretch, even if he did agree to the first two when Ryouta stressed how important they were for a smart image.

He hadn't even considered it before Kise pointed it out, but he owned only anti-perspiration deodorants, so the boys ended up talking to the lady in the perfumery for a length of time too great for Daiki's comfort before they finally emerged from the store with two new bottles of cologne for the Touou ace.

Just as he thought the nightmare was finally over, and he was free to go home, Kise dragged him into a beauty parlour of some sort and asked if they had any hair gel of this brand or another.

Aomine stared at Kise with a muscle twitching right under his eye.

"I am _not_ going to use that on my hair, Kise," he insisted, trying his best to get away from the blonde before he could touch his fingers smeared with that thing to Daiki's tresses.

Ryouta pouted theatrically, giving his friend the most withering glare he could manage.

"Come on, Aominecchi, stop being difficult. I'll just show you how to do it now, so you'll know how to do it yourself next time." When the dark-skinned boy continued his resistance, Ryouta decided to bring out the proverbial big guns. "Okay, fine—then I'll come earlier to your house tomorrow and help you get ready properly before we drop by the club."

At this, Aomine stopped trying to push the blonde away and figuratively threw in the towel as he dropped his hands to his sides. Kise grinned and took that as an invitation to work some magic in Daiki's hair.

Once he was done, he steered his friend around until he could take a look at himself in one of the store's strategically positioned mirrors.

"Well, what do you think?"

Daiki gave a melodramatic sigh, before shaking his head.

"Abominable. I doubt it gets better though, so let's just take this and go."

It was all he could do to keep the whine from his voice. Being made to try clothes out and buying stuff like _this_ made him feel emasculated.

All he wanted to do was go home and work up a sweat playing street ball with some of the guys from the neighbourhood before he crashed.

Kise sighed in defeat as well, but just shrugged his shoulders before telling the clerk that they were taking this particular gel.

Before he turned around and marched out of the store, Daiki threw a lingering glare at his reflection in the mirror.

Even though it was true that this kind of hairstyle didn't suit his current clothes at all, he did suppose it wasn't all _that_ bad…

* * *

On his way back home, he bumped into Satsuki. He was just around the corner, making his way towards the house, when he noticed her coming out the front door of hers.

"Ah, Dai-chan! You missed practice today!" she didn't miss the chance to chastise him, but her displeasure quickly melted into curiosity when she saw the load of bags in his hands. "Oh, were you shopping?"

"Can't you tell by looking?" he sighed while trudging towards the door of his home.

"Must've cost you a fortune," Satsuki observed, drawing his attention to the matter as well.

He smirked as he shrugged his shoulders.

"Not sure—Kise was paying," he told her with a grin. "After all, I'm the one doing him a favour here."

At this, Satsuki's lips curled into that infuriating little smile she pissed him off with so much when she donned on.

"A favour, huh…" she trailed off and the challenging look in her eyes made Daiki scowl.

"I'll show you," he muttered under his breath while he made his way inside the house, ignoring her 'Later, Dai-chan!' call from behind. "Just you wait…"

* * *

The day after is The Big Night. The first night when he meets with his supposed future employers to see if they approve of him joining their host club as one of their temporary employees.

Even though Kise assured him he's talked to them, Daiki couldn't help feeling a bit nervous. He'd never worked a day in his life and suddenly, the prospect of being evaluated by others for his suitability for a job position seemed somewhat daunting.

He smacked his cheeks a couple of times with his palms while he stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. _Get it together, idiot_, he chided himself as he stood upright in front of the sink. All he needed to do was stop fretting over this and he was sure he'd be fine.

Nodding decidedly to himself, he walked out of the bathroom and went to dress and prepare himself properly for his first clash with the world of host clubs.

* * *

When he arrived at the address Kise has given him, he found that the blonde was already there and talking to the men in suits around him. It made Daiki briefly nervous before he reminded himself that there was nothing to feel worried about. So, steeling his nerves, he called out to his Teikou teammate to alert him of his presence.

Daiki decided he had earned himself a mental pat on the back for the way Kise's jaw went slack when his eyes settled on him.

* * *

The nods of approval and the words of praise his future bosses and co-workers gave Daiki were strongly reassuring. He kept relying on those memories for mental strength while one of the senior hosts walked him and Kise through the main tasks of a person in the profession at hand.

* * *

Every time he got scolded for his speech being too rough, his comments too standoffish, his movements being too abrupt or his gaze being too intimidating, Daiki couldn't help but remember Satsuki's laughter and her reasons for telling him he wasn't suited for this business.

The memory of that trumped the annoyance he felt with being reprimanded by people no older than a couple of years his senior. It helped him focus on learning everything they tell him how and when to do, aiding his focus on the matter at hand.

* * *

It took Daiki three days to learn how to properly act as a good host.

It took him another two to keep himself from looking like someone was forcing him to act nice in front of colleagues and customers.

And, despite his sometimes brusque tongue and somewhat domineering, cold aura, he quickly got popular among the regular customers at the club he works at—a result that neither his employers, nor Kise, had expected when he first walked through that door.

* * *

The toughest aspect of the job for Daiki was, by far, the part where he had to talk to the customers.

Those customers being usually exclusively women.

It wasn't like he had some sort of social anxiety or fear from them, or anything idiotic like that. However, Aomine wasn't exactly the kind of guy girls usually associated with, or spent much time conversing with. That is, unless they had something they needed from him and vice versa. He had no idea what topics to talk to with a girl, what interested her and what suited her fancy.

The only girl he had practice talking to was Satsuki. And she wasn't exactly reference material. (Not with how long they've known each other and how much she usually enabled him in any and every mischief he comes up with.)

So he worried about that, when his mentor in the club finally allowed him to meet customers.

His first client was a woman in her late twenties—not much older than him—with a kind smile and pleasant presence. There was just something about her smile that told him this was not her first time in this kind of establishment, and that fact he found both reassuring and intimidating.

"There's no need to feel so tense, Mr Young Host," she told him in a placating voice. "If you don't know what to talk to women about, just let them lead the conversation instead."

The surprised look he gave her made her giggle into her hand while she stirred the drink in her hands.

"Besides, you have such a lovely and distracting voice and face that I'm sure your customers won't mind whatever topic of conversation you pick."

* * *

Even though it took Daiki only about a week to learn the ropes of the job, it took him about half a month to get into the groove of things.

Only after he got used to the premise of the club did he start feeling comfortable in it. Only then did the tension leave his shoulders and strain vacate his voice.

Two weeks after they first start working at the club, Kise was accompanying his latest customer out the door of the club when he saw the senior host staring stoically at something beyond the large doors of the establishment.

"Good work today, senpai!" the blonde greeted merrily, earning himself a thoughtful nod from the other host.

Kise then proceeded to follow the other man's gaze to pinpoint what it was that had his attention. He found his senior to be looking at Daiki who was smirking and leisurely making some offhand gestures while explaining something to his customer, who was near hysterics, laughing in her booth, as she sat across from him.

"Aominecchi sure got the hang of this pretty quick, huh?" the model noted jovially. The truth was that he was really happy that Daiki was finally starting to enjoy this.

Even though it was true that the club was paying both of them for their hard work, it was only because of Kise's insistence that the Touou ace had even agreed to do this. The blonde supposed he was lucky games season didn't start for another couple of months, otherwise he was sure there would've been no way he would've convinced Daiki to help him out with this.

"Yeah, he's a quick learner," the older host agreed with an enigmatic smile. "It also seems that you two youngsters are oddly suited for this kind of job."

He ruffled Kise's hair in an affectionate gesture despite the younger man's protest that he was 'ruining his hairdo'.

While he returned to his place in the club, the senior host couldn't help thinking that he better up his game a little if he didn't want such youngsters to outdo him in his own trade.

* * *

Three weeks since he first became a host, Aomine was on his way home with his childhood friend. A large yawn escaped him while he trudged unenergetically towards the convenience store.

"So, how's the host business going?" Satsuki asked with a smile in her voice, making Daiki throw her an evil glare before opening his popsicle.

"Fine," he told her succinctly, biting into the ice cream.

Just as she was about to make a comment, the pink-haired manager was interrupted by an energetic call behind them.

"Oi, Aominecchi!" the blonde called, waving his arms towards them from across the street.

Daiki shook his head in dejection while acting as though he didn't see the obnoxious eyesore from the other side of the street waving and yelling at them.

Only after Kise joined them did he deign the idiot with his attention.

"The owner called to tell us to come in earlier tonight. We're staying a bit later, too, because it's the club's anniversary of some sorts," the blond boy explained while nibbling on his popsicle.

Satsuki gave a thoughtful hum as she listened to the guys talk amongst themselves about things she knew nothing about.

"You two sure work hard, huh?" she noted offhandedly, making Kise's expression blossom into a bright grin as he took her hands in his.

"That reminds me, Momocchi!" he enthused, staring into her eyes with an intense look that made the pink-haired girl shrink back a bit. "You haven't dropped by the club till now, have you?"

Kise's question made Daiki square his shoulders and look away from the two idiots.

Satsuki smiled sheepishly.

"Well, _no_, I don't think it's—"

She never got to finish her sentence, though, because Ryouta cut across her excuse.

"That won't do! You should definitely drop by tonight! It's going to be a special evening and you can be our personal guest!" he insisted, his amber eyes practically sparkling with enthusiasm. "You won't regret it, I promise! You're gonna love our club!"

Satsuki laughed nervously, putting a hand behind her head.

"What should I do, I wonder…" she trailed off while weighing her options in her mind. She was thinking of a way to serve in front of her parents the news she wanted to go visit a friend at a host club that would not end up with her grounded for a week.

Meanwhile, Daiki's lips curled into a secretive smirk while he threw away the popsicle stick into the trashcan. Even if the only response he gave her was a noncommittal shrug when she asked him what he thought of this, inside he was thrilled at the notion of having her around while they were on the clock.

Revenge was a dish best served cold, Daiki believed.

* * *

When Satsuki first set foot into the club, she wasn't entirely sure what to expect. It was her first venture into this kind of shop, after all.

She was greeted by a chorus of very warm welcomes, offered to her by the several rather tall, very handsome young men inside.

Once she was properly beyond the threshold, Kise quickly swooped in to lead her around, showing her the "awesomeness of the place", as he put it himself. She giggled at the brimming enthusiasm of her once-schoolmate, a kind smile twisting her lips as she looked around.

"Are you going to be my host for tonight?" she asked with a small mock-curtsy, which made Kise laugh good-naturedly.

"Well, usually, you are free to choose out of all the available hosts, but since you're my guest for today, and," he leaned in to whisper conspiratorially in her ear, "you're in here for free because I begged the owner, you'll have to put up with my company for the evening."

The pink-haired girl laughed at his explanation and accepted his wordless offer of his arm, looping hers in it.

While they make their way over to a free booth, she couldn't help but wonder: where was Dai-chan?

* * *

Her question soon found its answer as, while she was waiting for Kise to come with the drink she ordered, Daiki returned from the back of the store, fastening the knot of his tie around his neck as he moved to sit in the booth across from hers next to a very attractive young lady.

But Satsuki didn't have half a mind to pay attention to the girl with him because, the moment her eyes settled on him, she was unable to see anything else.

Sure, she'd poked fun at him when the notion of hosts was first brought up, but she never expected him to look so dashing when he tried.

He was wearing a dark blue shirt that flatters his build nicely, the width of his torso emphasized by the stylish black vest he had over it. The tie he was wearing flattered him nicely and when he passed by her she noticed with surprise that he was wearing a very alluring cologne. His hair is tamed from its usual untidiness, the tips of it slickened with hair gel.

And his expression—oh, gosh, that same matter-of-fact nonchalance he usually has on looks so much different when he was dressed so formally. The smirk he gave her as he passed by her and the small nod he directed at her caused something funny to happen to her stomach.

He sat down with an air of dignity that she had never seen him carry himself with. His voice was low in volume but she could hear him perfectly from across the room, and the vision of his soft expression as he conversed with whomever had her mesmerized.

"Sorry for the wait!" Kise called out as he re-joined her at their table.

Satsuki was grateful for her seating choice because, the way she has sat down, she didn't need to move in order to see both her companion and Daiki behind him.

"Here's your order, miss," the blonde said with an exaggerated bow that she laughed heartily at.

"Thanks, Ki-chan," she told him with a smile as she took the non-alcoholic cocktail he handed her.

And, even as she talked to her friend, she couldn't help her eyes straying to the table behind the model every now and then, her gaze drawn to the navy haired host.

* * *

She wondered how she never noticed it before.

She ventured it was probably hidden behind all that laziness and complete lack of motivation to do just about anything.

Still, she found absolutely fascinating how just straightening his act up a bit could make her painfully aware of just how _handsome_ her childhood friend was.

Make no mistake – it wasn't like Satsuki was blind or stupid. She'd always known that Daiki had an okay face, and a very good body build. As far as looks and outer appearances went, she could say he was pretty boy material.

His usual demeanour and his rotten personality, though, served to diminish a lot of his charm points. To pretty much anyone who knew him, she believed.

Now, however, as she looked at him from across the premise she couldn't help but wonder—where had he hidden all this devilish charm before?

It was like the clothes, the pose and the room made him seem like a totally different person.

If she had to summarize in a word, she would say that he looked absolutely _breath-taking_.

His tone of voice and the impish smile on his face made her squirm slightly in her seat, and whenever a chuckle bubbled on his lips, she felt something warm coil in her gut.

She couldn't tear her eyes away from him.

And she blamed him for it entirely.

* * *

Throughout her whole evening visiting, Satsuki couldn't help but notice how many customers Dai-chan had.

Girl after girl, each more attractive than the other, came and went. They all seemed to enjoy themselves immensely in his company, laughing it up and flirting with him.

She noticed and didn't think it mattered. It shouldn't matter to her, at least. She didn't think it bothered her at all, despite the fact her gaze was glued to him that night. It meant nothing and it was perfectly fine for him to be doing so well at his job.

Then she saw a girl being particularly frisky, touching a hand to his arm when she laughed, leaning against him while she said something in a tone low enough only for him to hear, and that even if he bended forward to offer her his ear in the slight din of the club.

She saw the girl's lips brush just barely perceptibly against his lobe, but she could tell by the slight widening of his sapphire eyes that he noticed, too. He gave the girl a kind smile and leaned back after he heard her out, but didn't otherwise distance himself from her. Instead, he said something that made them both laugh, making the girl place her hand on top of his that was resting on his knee.

"Momocchi," she heard from across the table. She came out of her reverie to blink confusedly at Kise.

The blonde threw her a knowing smile as he motioned to her with his head.

"You shouldn't do that to your dress. It's gonna give it wrinkles."

Only after he said that did she take a look at her hands in her lap. They were clenching fistfuls of her evening dress with such force that her knuckles were turning white with effort.

She flustered and let go of the fabric quickly, smoothing it out as best as she could while making some nonsensical comments to her companion.

When she looked up, abashed by her lack of control over her own limbs, she lifted her gaze just in time to see Daiki run a hand through his navy tresses, smothering them back into the hairstyle they belong in.

In doing so, he exposed the long column of his neck, bringing her attention to the perfection of his jawline and the alluring upward curve of his full lips.

It was in that very moment that Satsuki knew she had been enchanted by the incubus he became when he worked in this place.

And there was nothing she could do to stop it, because the only things she could give any sort of consideration at the time was how much she craved to be the one running her fingers through those thick navy locks, or how much she yearned to rake her nails down his chest.

Or how much she was dying to erase that devilish smirk on his lips by smothering him with kisses.

* * *

If she thought she was being covert about staring at Aominecchi, or that he was some kind of moron who couldn't see the way she practically drank in his fellow host with her eyes, Kise begged to differ.

Instead of calling her out on her behaviour, though, the blonde decided to enjoy the show while it lasted, snickering to himself when he saw how often her attention drifted away from their conversation and the model's face to venture to his companion on the booth behind them.

He found this development most curious, and he reminded himself to give Aominecchi a pat on the back once Momocchi was gone.

After all, during all these years that Kise has known Satsuki, he has discovered that she isn't a girl easily infatuated with men. She spent too much time in their company to be easily impressionable by their antics or anything else.

To make _this _kind of girl practically drool and stare incessantly—it definitely deserved _at least_ a pat on the back in recognition.

* * *

In the course of the following four weeks, the club Ryouta and Daiki worked at found a certain pink-haired manager to be one of their most loyal customers.

She visited dutifully every night and made conversation with all the hosts. She made herself useful by offering them the data she had collected from her stays, showing them ways in which they could improve their strategies of communicating with their clients.

It wasn't like she went there to keep an eye on Daiki or anything. He was a grown man, capable of taking care of himself.

And it wasn't like she felt the urge to stab to death with her straw every girl that gazed upon him with glazed over, lustful eyes or anything. No such thing. He wasn't hers so he was free to flirt with whoever he wanted—it was none of her business.

Still, this was _a host club_. If he was going to flirt, he was supposed to wait until after working hours, because club policy strictly _prohibited _him from really hitting on any of his customers.

She was just the childhood friend, so it wasn't like she was feeling excessively possessive over him or anything. That would be just _silly_.

Yet, somehow, every evening, before she went home, the straw she had been drinking her refreshment with was left in a state so bent and mutilated that Kise was becoming increasingly more amused by the day.

* * *

Daiki heaved a great sigh as he plopped down on the cushions of the booth. He leant back against the back rest, placing his head against the wall before letting his eyes slide shut briefly.

Satsuki peered up at him curiously from her seat across the table from him.

"Long day?" she asked as a conversation-starter.

She instantly regretted her choice of words when he chuckled in response and loosened the tie from around his throat. She regretted it mostly because of the reaction his chuckle begot from her body, the butterflies fluttering in her tummy making her fidget in her seat uncomfortably.

"You can say that," he said smoothly, his voice low from his lack of energy.

How was it that when he seemed so worn, instead of looking pitiful, he only managed to come off as even sexier?

Who took Satsuki's childhood friend away from her and replaced him with an incubus? Come on, there was just _no way_ this was normal…

"You've been coming here pretty often lately, even though you were so reluctant at first," he pointed out in that smug tone he sometimes used with that smirk that ought to be banned by law. "Did you have a change of heart about this place once you saw it for yourself?"

He leaned into his palm of the hand he propped up on the table, giving her his most charming look.

Satsuki looked away before she could be sucked into his magic.

"It's a nice place. You're lucky to be working with such nice people," she deduced, taking a sip from her drink.

Her gaze slowly drifted up to fix upon Daiki's face while he put his arms on top of the cushioned couch, lying back into his seat again.

"You seem pretty popular with the customers, too," she said then, making him throw her the most complacent smile she had ever seen in her life.

"You think so too, right?" He gave her a feral grin then, letting his head rest back against the wall once more.

"I guess being showered with attention from girls makes you feel more diligent than usual," Satsuki said and she hoped that it didn't come out as bitter and biting as it had been in her mind.

"I don't particularly care what they think—I'm trying to make a point by working here."

His confession caught her off-guard. She didn't expect him to say something like this.

It makes her look up at him from her seat across the table curiously.

"What are you talking about?"

The look he threw her when his eyes opened slowly was so intense and piercing that she swallowed dryly on reflex and pressed her knees tighter together.

"You laughed," he told her coolly, and his tone made her skin erupt in gooseflesh.

She regretted not wearing something with longer sleeves. Her summer dress made her feel exposed under his scrutiny.

"E-excuse me?" she mumbled, genuinely confused as to what he was talking about.

Daiki ran a hand through his hair and huffed, turning his head away from her. She was grateful he did, because otherwise he would've noticed her biting her lip at the motion of his hand.

"When Kise suggested I work here with him. You laughed and said I wouldn't be able to pull it off," he reminded her in a testy tone. "You said I don't have what it takes to make this work."

Her eyes widened slightly as the memory came to her.

Daiki opened his arms from their place on top of the cushioned couch, gesturing to his surroundings with it.

"Seems I did somehow manage to make it work, huh?" There was something bitter about his smirk then, yet she couldn't help the way it made her heart leap in her chest. "I don't see you laughing now, even though you said you would."

She took a moment to wrap her mind around what exactly he was saying, and what he wasn't.

"So…" she began, struggling to form the thoughts properly. "The reason you've been working so hard in here isn't because you're feeding off of the attention you're getting from the girls … but because I _laughed_ at you when you first started out?"

He turned his head away from her, his lips set into a scowl.

"When you put it that way, it sounds wrong."

She almost gaped as he huffed, facing away from her.

His main driving force wasn't his desire to have the reverence of the opposite sex that he was showered with at this place. It was his desire to prove her wrong, to show her she had misjudged him severely.

The thought made Satsuki's lips twist into the brightest smile she'd worn in a while. Daiki noticed this and gave her his most scathing glare he could manage without having to turn his head to look at her directly.

"What are you grinning at, idiot?" he quipped tersely.

"Dai-chan," she told him merrily, taking a long sip of her drink.

Daiki's brows narrowed dangerously over his eyes.

"Are you mocking me again?"

She shook her head.

"Not like that," she informed him, her tone still happy. "I was just thinking that Dai-chan is the cutest."

His expression faltered comically at that explanation.

"Cute?" he spat out, as though the word was venomous on his tongue. He eyed her evilly while she moved across the couch to sit next to him, swinging her legs merrily under the table. "Cute is not the image I am going for here."

"I know," she reassured him, turning to stare at him from up close.

He grimaced when she spent a long time just peering into his face and saying nothing.

"What?" he demanded at length with an angry scoff, running his fingers through his hair again, unaware of the effect that had on her.

"I'm sorry for laughing at you, Dai-chan," she said sincerely, the brilliance of her smile almost blinding. "The host look suits you so well it's not the least bit funny."

He gave her an evaluating look, searching her eyes for any ridicule. When he found none, he allowed a smile to stretch his lips, making Satsuki's stomach tie into a knot in response.

"Thanks," he told her with that grin and chuckled lightly as he allowed the tension from their earlier exchange to leave his shoulders.

And, honestly, it was his own fault.

It was Dai-chan's fault for looking so fetching in that outfit. It was his own fault for being so charming with that smile on his face. It was his own fault for choosing a cologne so addictive she was almost literally dying to bury her nose into his neck to breathe it in deeper.

It was his own fault for enchanting her. She just reacted on impulse when she leaned into him, pressing her lips against his in a chaste kiss.

When she pulled away, her face was so crimson it could probably rival the colour of Kagami's hair.

She quickly shifted her gaze to her lap, making sure to look anywhere but at his face.

Her thoughts were racing and she was so busy blaming herself for being so rash, so stupid, so out of control, she didn't notice that Daiki's shocked expression morphed into a mischievous one.

"You really shouldn't do that. I'm still working, and it's against club policy to touch the hosts," he informed her matter-of-factly, but she could hear the mirth seeping into his voice.

"If anyone should be held responsible, it should be you and that ridiculous hairstyle, and that even more ridiculous outfit. I'm not to blame at all in this situation," she reasoned as though her arguments were completely sound.

Her petulance made Daiki chuckle next to her, and she tried to ignore how the sound of his voice caused heat to pool between her legs—especially at their proximity.

"If the owner saw you doing that, he'd throw you out," he told her with a Cheshire cat-like grin.

"S-so? Even if he does, it would've been well worth it!" she all but squeaked out, turning her head away from him.

Her host deliberated her answer for a moment.

He thought of the quickness and complete lack of satisfaction her kiss—could it even be called that, he wondered idly—had left him with. He shook his head disapprovingly.

Instead of correcting her, he put a hand on her shoulder, pulling her upper half towards himself. He used his other hand to take hold of her chin, gently forcing her face to turn so that he could place his mouth over hers.

When their lips connected, Satsuki's eyes widened in surprise. This was most certainly not a development she had foreseen when she'd reacted in consonance with her urges.

She was not about to complain, though, so instead of overthinking things like she usually did, she sighed through her nose and closed her eyes, melting against his frame in bliss.

Before she could relax too much into the contact, though, she felt his tongue licking at her lower lip, silently asking for access.

She gasped at the feeling his action incited in her and he used her surprise to slip his tongue into the warm cavern of her mouth, exploring freely inside. She finally got her bearings well enough to slide her own tongue against his, mimicking his movements. While they battled vehemently for dominance she couldn't help a needy moan in the back of her throat.

The sound she makes causes him to change the angle of his head, granting him better access to her lips. His fingers bury in her beautiful pink tresses, while his other hand holds onto her shoulder, keeping her steady. She's clinging onto him by the front of his shirt as though her life depends on it. His lips curl upwards into their kiss before he lets his eyes slide shut as well.

His tongue was warm and moist and thoroughly inquisitive as he continued engaging hers in a tantalizing fight. Every feather-light touch made her feel like her body was on fire.

Her head was spinning, her thoughts were racing and she couldn't breathe but when he pulled away, she felt the delicious warmth gone and she almost gave him a whine of protest as he detached his lips from hers.

He didn't move very far from her, though, and when she slowly let her eyes flutter open to look at him, she found her breath hitching in her throat again at the ravenous look he was giving her in that very moment.

"No," he told her suavely, leaning in to whisper against her earlobe. "_This_ would make it well worth being thrown out of here."

With the way her heart was hammering against her ribcage, her face bright red and her breathing coming out in short, little puffs, the only response Satsuki could manage was a tiny nod.

She could only process how maddening his warm breath fanning against the sensitive flesh of her lobe felt, how intoxicating the strong aroma of his cologne was in her oversensitive nostrils, and how desperately she wanted to lean in and kiss him again.

He relieved her of her discomfort with the dilemma of whether or not it was improper to react on impulse again when he closed the gap between their lips for the third time.

* * *

When Daiki's temporary contract with the host club ends, he has done so well and his popularity among the ladies is so large that the producers of Kise's movie end up offering him the role they had been preparing the blonde for with this endeavour.

He disappoints the crew and makes Kise cry tears of joy and gratitude when he turns the offer down right away without leaving any room for debate.

He does it because, frankly, Daiki has no time to waste on such nonsense.

Between basketball matches, practice and third year of high school with all its tests, career surveys, extensive homework and whatnot, he doesn't have time for anything else.

And, what little time he does manage to spare, he plans to spend with his new pink-haired girlfriend whom he can't get enough of and who, somewhat miraculously, can't seem to get enough of him either.

* * *

A/N: I had tremendous fun with writing this. I hope you guys enjoyed it, too! I do believe this is one of my better works so far. xD I admit to shamelessly copying Pidgeon's "Right? _Wrong_" little writing device after re-reading her last AoMomo story.

Also, this story was called several things before it arrived at this title. I went from "Hosting", through this title, to "Incubus". But when I noticed that the focus of the term was a bit too sexual for the situation, I decided to go back to "Club Policy" after all.

Frankly, I just had an idea about host!Daiki and I acted upon it. xD

100 Situations, Table One; 038: Touch.

_20__th__ March, 2013._


	12. First Passenger

An unforeseen perk that comes with being Aomine Daiki's closest associate comes to Satsuki much, much later into their acquaintance.

It comes in the form of his driver's license and, more specifically, his parents' gift for him to celebrate his acquiring it.

Satsuki thinks her childhood friend is really lucky to have parents who adore him so much (despite his many transgressions and flaws) to be so kind as to buy him his first car.

Of course, it's only a second hand vehicle, but it's in good enough shape and it's perfect for what it needs to do: namely, get Daiki from point A to point B in less time than it would take him with the public transport.

This fact, in turn, brings us to the topic of interest.

Whenever Daiki needed to go from point A to point B, Satsuki almost always ended up being there with him as well.

Of course, attending the same university and living in the same dorm meant that she had the convenience of bothering him whenever she pleased, or whenever she had nothing better to do with her time. More often than not, during those visits, something always came up: they either got hungry and decided to grab a bite to eat in the city, or got bored playing video games and decided to go downtown to check out if there was anything interesting to do.

Having a best friend with a car, who pounces at any excuse to take it out for a drive, Satsuki discovers, changes one's lifestyle a lot.

Not only did he take her to and from university—since their schedules were very similar, despite their being in two completely different departments in the educational establishment—but whenever she needed to go for some shopping or groceries or to attend some gathering of any sort, she could just drop by Dai-chan's dorm room and ask him (or blackmail him; or beg him; or con him—depending on his state of agreeableness and level of busyness at the time) to drive her wherever she needed to go. No longer did she need to spend hours and hours waiting at bus stops and transferring through four different kinds of transportation to get to her meeting places on time.

She'd be a liar if she said this set up wasn't insanely convenient for her. Or if she denied she enjoyed the form of freedom it gave her.

While, sure, Daiki was the one with the license and the car was his, the fact he'd never really said 'no' to driving her anywhere made her feel like she was entitled to some kind of ownership over the vehicle as well.

When he first got the license, she was the first person to ride in his brand new ride with him.

And there was something about that which created an inexplicable bond between the three of them: Daiki, Satsuki and his Mazda 3.

* * *

Being "the friend with the personal means of transportation" more often than not ended up with Daiki driving friends around on various occasions.

Satsuki was pretty much a given—she lived in the same building, had pretty much the same responsibilities and tasks to do as he did, tolerated his imbecility most of the time, pulled his reins in whenever he went too far – the woman was pretty much entitled to a place in his car.

And, although she was his most frequent passenger, she was by far not the only one.

Especially when he was friends with people like Tetsu, Kagami and Midorima.

It still baffled him to this day how those… bonds, if they could even be called that, which they forged in high school, withstood the trials of time and, instead of getting severed with the years, only seemed to strengthen.

Whatever the case, fact still remained that at least once a month or so, the former Generation of Miracles, plus extra folks like Kagami, Takao, Kasamatsu and them, gathered together somewhere to have some fun together, maybe play some games on a court nearby for old times' sake and just go all out partying. (Truthfully, Daiki found it ridiculous how amazingly fun those get-togethers were, especially considering what weirdoes each of those guys were separately, and how mismatched they were when bunched all together. But who was he to judge, anyway? Hell, he was probably the oddest out of them at times.)

It was on such an occasion that it was decided that Tetsu and Kagami would come ride with Daiki and Satsuki to the party, which was going to be held at Akashi's parents' villa out in suburban Tokyo. The four had made arrangements with each other, and decided to leave early enough to be able to go help Akashi with the preparations for welcoming that many guests—especially considering that Kagami was going to be one of the main cooks for the party's appetizers.

When he'd gone to fetch her, Satsuki had told her childhood friend that she'd need some more time, because she had an errand to run for her parents. She'd told Daiki to go ahead and go pick up Tetsu and Kagami and that they could meet to pick her up at the university—she was sure to be done by the time the guys were all gathered up.

Daiki had blinked several times, but shrugged and agreed, calling over his shoulder to her that he'd see her later before snatching his car keys from the coffee table.

Neither of them really gave it much thought, but it was the first time that they were going somewhere, to a big get-together, without them both being already in Daiki's car when picking up others.

So, when Daiki stopped in front of Tetsu's dorm, he didn't really understand why the boy paused for a few seconds, observing Daiki's dark blue vehicle critically.

When the former Touou ace gave his once-shadow a curious look over the steering wheel, Kuroko was already opening the rear door.

"Good morning, Aomine-kun," the teal-headed boy greeted good-naturedly with a nod towards the other behind the wheel.

"Morning, Tetsu," Daiki responded with a small smirk, before pulling out of the driveway and heading towards Kagami's apartment.

He wasn't entirely sure what Tetsu's deal was, but since the guy himself mentioned nothing, Daiki decided to just let it go for the time being.

* * *

When they finally arrived at Kagami's—and the redhead didn't even pause a heartbeat before eagerly climbing into the passenger seat next to Daiki in the front—the former Touou ace gained a new respect for Kuroko and the quiet man's insightfulness.

After all, he seemed to have realized something before even Daiki had.

"Yo!" Kagami greeted energetically while passing Kuroko some bags to hold as well and to put in the back. "Morning, Aomine, Kuroko."

He regarded both boys and the teal-haired one gave him a polite greeting as well, while the redhead strapped himself in with the belt.

Only after he was done and he was telling them that he'd spent a lot more time making the rice for the onigiri than he'd expected did he realize that something was amiss.

That something being that, instead of already being on the way—like he thought they would be by the time he got to telling them this stuff—they were still in his apartment building's parking lot, not having moved a centimetre.

At this, Kagami turned to peer over at Aomine with nonplus. He felt even more confused by the wry look on the driver's face.

"What?" Kagami asked, clueless, blinking innocently back at him.

Kuroko eased back into his seat behind the two of them, a ghost of a smile tugging on the corner of his lips.

"That's Satsuki's seat," Aomine explained, tight-lipped. His voice was clipped.

Kagami had the gall to quirk a brow at him as though he was making no sense.

"Err, Momoi isn't here," the redhead pointed out intelligently, thinking that would conclude the conversation.

It didn't.

"We're picking her up next."

Kagami still didn't get it.

"So? She'll sit at the back with Kuroko—I'm sure she'd be thrilled with that."

Kuroko turned his face away so as to hide the smile that was rising to his lips at Kagami's argument. While it was a very solid one, the shadow found it quite amusing that Kagami-kun was still missing the entire point of Aomine-kun's sentiment.

Daiki didn't say anything to refute Taiga's statement. He opted instead for staring the other man down, his expression growing increasingly more unnerving to the man next to him the more time he continued studying the redhead with it.

On the fortieth second (or so) of their staring match, Kagami already felt the hairs at the back of his neck standing in anxiety. Being on the receiving end of such meticulous—and expectant—scrutiny from Idiot-mine was not something the red-haired adolescent was used to.

And now he was breaking out in cold sweat.

"_What_?" he demanded at last, voice louder than he meant it to be, when he burst out.

Daiki continued staring at him with the same deadpan expression and compelling gaze.

"Sit in the back," he all but ordered, making the boy in the passenger seat glare heatedly at him.

"_Why_? What does it matter who sits where?" Kagami argued feebly again.

Kuroko shook his head to himself in the back. Oh, Kagami-kun, so hopelessly clueless about certain type of things sometimes…

"She isn't here now, and I'm sure she won't mind sitting in the back for a change—"

"Doesn't matter. Just go sit in the back."

The air of finality in Daiki's voice made the stubborn streak of Kagami's character rear its ugly head.

"I won't!" he said, crossing his arms petulantly over his chest.

Aomine raised an eyebrow at his front seat passenger.

"You _won't_?" he reiterated, slowly.

Kuroko could feel the annoyance steadily seeping into the navy-haired young man's tone, even if Kagami-kun obviously couldn't.

"I won't!" Taiga repeated, returning Aomine's glare with one of his own. "I sat here and I'm staying here!"

Truthfully, Kagami rarely ever got the chance to ride in a car to begin with, and even rarer were the occasions when he got to ride in the front. Given the opportunity, he really wanted to enjoy his time being the one in the passenger seat for a change—especially considering that in Aomine's car, Momoi was usually the one occupying it. In his parents' car, it was usually both his parents at the front, so Taiga really liked the chance of being the one able to see the road for a change.

He was not surrendering that without a fight!

Daiki stared expectantly at him for a while longer, but Kagami refused to let the scathing glare bother him. He kept his arms crossed over his chest, his expression aloof, while the navy haired man scrutinized him.

Instead of reacting like Kagami thought he would—taking off at last and dropping the childish argument—Daiki surprised both his passengers when he turned the keys in the ignition until the engine could no longer be heard. He put one of his hands on his thigh while leaning against the other on the driver's door.

When Kagami threw him an outraged look, he found the sapphire eyes of the former Touou ace pinned at some point ahead. He had turned his face away from Kagami, staring out of the windshield.

"We're not going anywhere till you go sit in the back," he informed them coolly, his demeanour the embodiment of nonchalance.

At this, Kagami's jaw literally dropped.

"Are you for real?" the once-Seirin ace demanded, incredulous.

Daiki neither said nor did anything, choosing instead to continue staring out the windshield of his car.

When Kagami opened his mouth to say something else—offer his two cents to Aomine about this whole thing—he was stopped by a hand gently placed on his shoulder.

"Taiga," Kuroko said in a calm tone, drawing his friend's attention to himself.

As Kagami looked at him, the teal-headed youth shook his head barely perceptibly.

The redhead heaved a deep sigh, glaring accusatively at their driver before unbuckling his seat belt with a flourish. On his way out the door, he slammed it a bit harder than absolutely necessary before taking a seat in the back next to his former teammate.

"There!" he snapped once he was comfortably set in. "Happy?" the redhead demanded bitingly, turning his head to glare out the window.

In doing so, he missed the small smirk that surfaced on Daiki's face.

"Honestly… He pulls shit like this and then goes ahead saying he thinks of her as nothing but a friend… Fucking retarded…" Kagami muttered irritably under his breath, sending death glares to the scenery out the window.

The key turned in the ignition and the engine roared to life.

* * *

The familiar dark blue Mazda pulled over in front of Satsuki. She jogged up to the side of it, a smile playing on her face as she switched the bags she was carrying into the possession of her other hand so she could open the door.

When she was at the door of the vehicle, though, she noticed that something was definitely amiss.

For one, the passenger seat was open, and she had expected that either Tetsu-kun or Kagamin would've taken it in her absence. (It hadn't been something she was looking forward to, so it was nice that it was still empty, but _still_, it was odd.)

For another, Kagami seemed to be in a rather huffy mood, looking anywhere but at the car's driver.

Her brows furrowed and her smile went a bit askew, but she climbed in and greeted the boys before she raised any questions.

"What's with Kagamin?" she asked her childhood friend, laughter bubbling in her tone while she buckled her seatbelt.

Her question made the look in Kagami's crimson eyes darken and a smirk rise on Aomine's lips.

"Nothing, don't mind him," the former Touou student told her, waving his hand dismissively. He then put it back on the gear shift, changing gears as he pulled out of their temporary pit stop. "Although, he could definitely use a lesson in proper etiquette and manners."

"What was that?!"

Kagami all but launched himself toward Aomine in hopes of strangling the life out of him before two very disconcerted co-passengers jumped in to stop him with a chorus of 'Don't bother the driver when we're moving!'

* * *

An hour and a half later found the merry quartet stopping over at a local supermarket a few minutes away from Akashi's villa. Kagami insisted there were some things they still needed to buy that were best when fresh.

Instead of all of them going into the supermarket together, Kuroko insisted that he'd help his former teammate while Daiki and Satsuki waited for them in the car. There was no need to run errands in a crowd, after all.

A few minutes into their wait, and an open can of an energy drink in Daiki's hand later, Satsuki found herself pondering the earlier matter once again.

"Hey, Dai-chan?"

"Mm?" Daiki hummed into the can he was tilting up to drink from.

"How come there was no one in the front seat?" she queried innocently, giving him a curious look. "I thought for sure that either Tetsu-kun or Kagamin would've taken it while I was gone."

Her question made him pause slightly. It was barely there but she noticed it, and it made her tilt her head to the side.

"What?" she asked, even more curious now at his enigmatic reaction.

"Kagami the idiot tried to sit in the front, but I didn't let him," he explained smoothly, as though it was the most natural thing in the world.

Satsuki laughed.

"Why not? What does it matter?" Her childhood friend threw her an unreadable look from the seat across. She shrugged her shoulders. "I wouldn't have minded sitting in the back anyway."

Daiki huffed and turned his face away from her.

"Shut up about this already, every single one of you. 'What does it matter', 'what does it matter'…" he grumbled ill-temperedly before tipping the can to take another gulp of his drink.

The pink-haired young woman was starting to believe she must've said something wrong to make her friend get into such a sullen mood all of a sudden and wondering what she could do to make it better—a trying task, considering she had no idea what she did or said wrong—when he spoke again.

"The front passenger seat is Satsuki's seat. No one else's. That's all there is to it."

He said it so softly and so petulantly that she may not have heard him if she hadn't been paying attention.

His words drew her gaze to him, though, and she had to bite her lip to keep herself from grinning when she saw the expression on his face. He was virtually pouting, leaning on his arm against the door, gaze pinned to the hood of the car.

It took her a moment to wrap her mind around what he'd told her.

Oh.

_Oh_.

This time, she couldn't help the giggle that escaped her lips. Before he could lash out and demand what was so damn funny, she leaned over. Her arms wound around his neck, pulling him in so she could press a soft kiss to his cheek.

When Kuroko and Kagami came back, if they found the evasiveness of Daiki's eyes peculiar, or the huge grin on Satsuki's face unusual, they mercifully didn't comment on it.

For her part, the pink-haired young woman had a feeling this party was going to be awesome. She already felt giddy before they had even arrived.

Then again, being told by one of the most important people in her life that she was the only one he wanted riding next to him in his car—you have to admit, it is a pretty invigorating thing to hear.

* * *

A/N: I am not sure how impacting that ended up being. But it's an idea I've had for _ages_, and it's finally come to fruition so, yay? xD I'm sure that driving!Daiki is very cool. Like pretty much any Daiki. :D

I actually put thought into what kind of car Daiki would drive, even if he doesn't choose it himself. Since they're Japanese, decided to make it a Japanese car for sure. And since I like the pretty sporty look Mazda can give their vehicles, it was my choice. I actually looked up some pics. xD Okay, I'll stop rambling about stuff nobody cares about now. xD Lemme know what you thought!

100 Situations, Table One; 014: Chair.

_23rd March, 2013._


	13. Girl with the Dragon Tattoo

Written for princess-oro's prompt: Tattoo.

* * *

His hand froze on the way to his mouth, his pork meat piece suspended in mid-air between his chopsticks and his lips, which were now twisting into a scowl.

"Haa? You want to get a tattoo?"

"Yep, it's the new fad among my co-workers! So I thought I could get one, too!" she says in a chirpy tone as though that was a perfectly plausible reason for one to deface their body.

All Daiki could do was stare at her, a muscle in his cheek slightly twitching while he tried to wrap his mind around what the hell she was just saying.

Oblivious to her beloved's plight, Satsuki continued talking.

"I was thinking something like a rose or a flame. Or maybe even a dragon!" Her eyes were twinkling in excitement.

Daiki came out of his stupor long enough to hear the last suggestion.

"A _dragon_?" he reiterated in a deadpan tone.

"Yes, on my back!" she all but exclaimed, making Daiki's eye twitch involuntarily. "Then I can be the girl with the dragon tattoo!"

She giggled, amused with her own pun, and still very much oblivious to her lover's opinion of their current topic of conversation. She took a bite of her rice just as Daiki was putting his chopsticks down to glare heatedly at her.

"You haven't even watched that movie yet…" he grumbled irately.

"Dai-chan, it was a book before it was a movie," Satsuki clarified in that matter-of-fact, 'how can you not know this' tone that irked him endlessly even on his best of days.

And, currently, Daiki was _not_ having one of the best of his days.

"I don't _care_ if it's a theatrical play or whatever—you're not getting anything tattooed on your body!"

This time his tone and claim were enough to catch her attention long enough to have her start realizing his disapproval for her idea. She shifted her dark crimson eyes to him, glaring heatedly at him across the dining table they were on.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean? If I want to get a tattoo, then I will get one!"

His brows lowered dangerously over his eyes.

"No, you won't," he told her, an air of finality in his words.

"It's my body, so it's my decision to make, Dai-chan," she told him in a terse tone, slamming her chopsticks down on the table, her appetite suddenly inexistent.

"Yes, and you're making this decision based on the fact that, what, 'everyone else is doing it'?" Her lips set into a firm frown at that. "So, if everyone else was jumping off bridges, _would you_?"

She scoffed, shaking her head at that.

"That's totally different," she told him and got up from the table, no longer willing to look at him for the time being.

"How is it different?" he demanded, having risen from his seat as well.

"How is it _not_?" she parried effortlessly, glaring daggers at him as she turned on her heel. "Besides, I don't get what the big deal is—it's just a tattoo!"

"Yes, just a goddamn dragon on your back—no biggie, right?" he retorted, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"If you don't like the idea of the dragon, just say so! I'll get something smaller if a big one makes you uncomfortable," she relented with a small sigh, rubbing the bridge of her nose in an attempt to fight the oncoming migraine this conversation was giving her.

She almost jumped when Daiki slammed his hand on the counter behind her, effectively trapping her between the kitchen cupboard and himself. His eyes were flashing dangerously and, as annoyed as she was with him, being so close with him being so ardent about something he was trying to drive home with her, it made her mind veer off in different directions.

"I am _uncomfortable_ with the whole idea of the tattoo, not with the fucking dragon!" he hissed out, bring his face to her eye level.

And then he was simply just playing unfair. Bringing his other hand to trace the line of her face was absolutely against the rules of a fair argument. Letting his breath fan against her cheek as he let his hand slide down from her face, to follow the curves of her shoulders and the small of her back, to her waist and hips, before he tugged her forward, bringing her in for a kiss.

"Promise me you won't get any tattoos," he said hoarsely once they part for air, both gasping for breath. "Promise me you won't and tonight will be Satsuki Special," he whispered huskily in her ear.

He wasn't playing fair before, but now that's outright dirty play.

In more meanings than one.

She whined pitifully, clinging to the front of his shirt while he lavished her neck with kisses.

"That's not fair, Dai-chan," she complained breathlessly. "This is blackmail."

She can feel his smirk pressing against the side of her neck.

"How is this blackmail? I'm offering you something you will enjoy—several times over, too—in exchange for you doing something I want. Sounds like a perfect deal to me," he told her, blowing warm air into her sensitive earlobe as he did so. His leg moved between hers, purposefully pressing against her body, making her moan when his thigh brushed against her. "What do you say?"

"This is emotional blackmail," she all but whined, clinging even tighter to his arms since she could feel her legs giving out on her already while he started working his magic over her in all the ways he knew perfectly to disarm her.

"Just say the word, and we're taking this to the bedroom," he told her in that low sexy tone that always had her at his mercy.

"Fine! I promise!" she said with a pout, trying her best to push him away for a bit as she was petulantly displeased with him for doing this to her.

She didn't get much of a chance to be annoyed, though, because her lover had her lifted up from the counter and in his embrace as he carried her unceremoniously towards their bedroom.

* * *

"Momoi-san, are you all right?" her co-worker asked when she delivered some folders to her desk. "You look really tired."

Satsuki blinked up at the woman from behind her laptop screen, bleary eyes slowly focusing on the other woman. A wide yawn rose to her lips before she could stop herself.

"I'm fine," she assured the other woman with a small smile. "Hey, Morizono-san, do you think it's possible to die from happiness?"

Her companion gave her a confused look but, to her credit, did give Satsuki's query some thought.

"I don't think that's possible," she said at last with a small giggle behind her hand.

"How about from too intense or too many orgasmic blisses?"

At this, the younger woman blushed bright red as she regarded her pink-haired superior.

"W-w-what?"

Satsuki waved her hand, dismissing the other woman.

"Just talking to myself, don't mind me," she said offhandedly, getting back to the computer screen. "I'm a bit sleep-deprived, but I'll be fine as soon as I catch up on some rest."

Morizono nodded and retreated back to her working station, throwing a shy look at her team leader.

Momoi-san was definitely a piece of work, just as the company owners had promised her when they first offered her the job as her assistant.

* * *

"Momoi-san," the woman spoke, bringing the pink-haired female out of her daydream. "Did you decide whether you felt like going to the tattoo shop?" she asked shyly, batting her pretty eyelashes at the former Touou manager.

Satsuki gave the question some thought. It was true that she had promised Dai-chan that she wouldn't do it. Which was why she had spent a very interesting night (she lost count of how many times he'd brought her to an orgasm after the fourth one). As mind-blowing as it had been, and as guilty as she thought for telling him one thing and doing another, she still wanted to get that tattoo.

After all, she couldn't see what the big deal was to begin with.

Plus, she'd get something small. Like a butterfly, or a rose. At the small of her back where it wouldn't be visible most of the time. It would make a fine compliment to her already stunning looks, she believed.

Returning back to the present moment—she had a tendency to zone out today—she smiled back to her subordinate.

"Yeah, let's go there after work today."

The smile her co-worker gave her could've rivalled the brilliance of the sun.

* * *

She'd made up her mind, so feeling nervous now made no sense.

Still, that didn't change the fact that she did feel incredibly nervous.

"I'm sorry. It's just that… I've never lifted my shirt in front of anyone but Dai-chan, and it's making me feel nervous now," she chuckled uncomfortably, fidgeting in her seat.

The young man holding the needle threw her a lopsided smile.

"Childhood friend?" he ventured a guess while preparing the needle.

Satsuki tried not to let her slipping nerve show on her face as she eyed the sharp object in the tattooist's hands.

"Yeah, you can say that."

Suddenly the commotion going on outside the door of the room they were in drew in Satsuki's attention.

Before she could make any comment, though, the door to the room burst open, a very pissed Daiki having kicked it. The jaws of all three occupants of the room dropped open, and Satsuki was the only one to recover fast enough to be able to form intelligent speech when the newcomer waltzed inside the premise, completely ignoring the tattooist's secretary who was feebly trying to hold him back.

"Dai-chan! What are you doing here?!" she all but shrieked, making both her co-worker and the man with the needle gawk at them.

_This_ was "_Dai-chan_"?

Somehow, the tattooist believed, calling a two-meter tall, very broad-shouldered and well-built bear of a man Dai-_chan_ could lead to a lot of misunderstandings.

What was these two's deal anyway?!

Daiki, on the other hand, let his sharp sapphire eyes scan the premise once, lingering just a bit longer on the tattooist—leaving the guy be only once he saw the cold shiver run down his spine—before he aimed his attention to Satsuki.

His brows narrowed over his eyes as he regarded her incredulous expression.

"I had a feeling you'd pull something like this. So I followed you after work, and, of course, here you are, doing _exactly_ what I told you not to do—what you _promised me_ not to do."

Trust Dai-chan to know the perfect way to make her feel bad about something she shouldn't be doing. Now he was guilt-tripping her, even though it was none of his business what she drew on her body.

"So you decided that _stalking me_ here is a good idea—hey, wait a minute, _let go of me_!" Her rant was halted when Daiki grabbed her by the wrist and hauled her off of the table she was sitting on.

He was dragging her in direction toward the door with practiced ease before her screaming started getting too loud for his preference.

"Let go of me! You can't tell me what I can do and what I cannot with my own body! I'm not your possession, _you hear me?! Let go already!_ You can't just drag me out of here like a toddler! I'm old enough to make my own decisions about my own body!"

At this, Daiki stopped and sighed deeply. He turned around and glared down at his lover who stared defiantly up at him, refusing to back down. He rolled his eyes, already tired with this argument.

So instead of continuing this nonsense, he grabbed Satsuki and held her like a potato sack over his shoulder, ignoring her screeching to put her down while she pounded with her tiny fists against her back.

"Sorry for the inconvenience, people," he said, regarding the other three occupants in the room for the first time. He saluted them with his free hand before turning to walk out the door he had come from.

Satsuki's screaming kept getting more and more muffled the more distance he put between them and the tattoo shop.

"Wow," Morizono said when she finally got her bearings together. "Momoi-san's fiancé sure is something, isn't he?"

Her comment was met by two completely flabbergasted looks from the tattooist and his secretary.

* * *

"This is super annoying, Dai-chan! Put me down already!"

When he ignored her and kept trudging towards their apartment, Satsuki started thrashing around even more violently.

"Do you plan to carry me like this all the way home?" she demanded scathingly, pushing against the back of his head.

"If I have to," Daiki told her, completely unfazed by her rage.

"People are staring!" she screeched out, trying to wriggle out of his hold and failing. "Put me down already! Everyone is looking at us as if we're weird!"

"If you stop struggling, maybe they'll stop staring as much," he suggested intelligently, making her glare heatedly at him.

Not that he could see since her upper half was draped over his shoulder and back.

Finally, she allowed some of her anger to ease up and instead of struggling to get out of his hold, she massaged her temples to calm herself down.

"Can you _please _put me down? This is seriously demeaning," she told him sincerely, choosing a more acceptable tactic for appealing to him.

"So is being promised one thing and finding out that the promise meant nothing to you," he told her in a steely tone.

And only the graveness of his voice told her just how truly upset he was with her.

His attempt at guilt-tripping her before hadn't worked, but it was doing splendidly this time around.

She bit her lip, feeling bad about sneaking around behind his back to do the exact thing she had promised him not to do. As he carried her, taking step after step, she watched his feet move, feeling worse with every stride of his that they spent in this suffocating silence.

"I'm sorry," she said barely above a whisper.

Daiki heaved another great sigh before stopping in his tracks. He put her down to her feet at last, but somehow she couldn't savour the feeling as she was too busy staring guiltily at their feet.

As he looked down at her hunched form, some of Daiki's annoyance started siphoning out of his system. At the very least, it seemed that it was finally through her thick skull that what she had pulled here was not at all nice.

Before she could get any more depressed, though, he pulled her into his arms, wrapping her tightly in his embrace. She rested her forehead against his shoulder with a small sigh.

"Satsuki, please let go of this tattoo idea," he almost pleaded with her, his hold on her tightening.

"I just… I don't get it. What does it matter?" she whispered against his chest as she held onto him as well. "It's just a tiny little drawing. What difference does it make?"

He pulled away from her just enough to be able to look into her face. As he placed his forehead against hers, she felt herself unable to meet his imploring cerulean gaze.

"Your skin is so white, so smooth. It's like porcelain." He caressed her cheek, cupping her face gently. In doing so, he lifted her head enough to force her eyes to lock with his. "It's so soft and pale. I really love that part about you."

He leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to her lips which whisked her breath away.

"You're perfect the way you are, and having a tattoo on that perfect skin is going to be the same as sacrilege."

She couldn't help the small smile that spread on her lips then. The corners of his quirked up as well in response, his hand on the back of her neck massaging the supple flesh underneath lovingly.

"And, besides, the mere thought of someone else looking at that lovely bare back of yours makes me want to break something, not to mention someone else _touching_ you."

He kissed her again, this time longer, with much more passion. He kissed her, sliding his tongue in her mouth and pressing it against hers until he had her gasping in his arms. When they parted for air, Satsuki felt her body warm all over and found herself yearning for another kiss.

"Okay," she agreed in a voice barely above a whisper. "No tattoos," she promised again, this time meaning it.

The smile Daiki gave her made her already laboured breathing hitch in her throat.

"Let's go home," she said, willing herself to extricate herself from his embrace so they could make it the rest of their way to the abode they shared.

She laced her fingers with his as they walked, savouring the smile on her beloved's face as she did so.

"I have some making up to you to do," she said with a mischievous smile, licking her lips suggestively as the continued down their road.

She barely withheld the giggle that threatened to escape her mouth when Daiki's stride quickened at the silent promise she had given him.

* * *

A/N: I'm really sorry for the lateness of this story. It took me a lot of time to come up with an acceptable plot to the prompt, by the way. ;_; I was stumped because a while ago, I read Pidgeon's take on this prompt and it became pretty much my headcanon, on what Satsuki's reaction to Daiki wanting a tattoo would be like. But copying someone's idea just to make do isn't something I'm okay with, so I kept racking my brain, until I changed the whole concept: instead of having Daiki as the one who wants the tattoo, I decided to have it be Satsuki. Thus, this story was born.

Maybe it's not what you had in mind, my dearest princess-oro, but I think it came out considerably well (especially when comparing to my other, much subpar, ideas to this ;A;). Let me know what you think!

I'm gonna use this for the 100 Situations, too, because… you know, they're 100 and already hard to come up with? Dx

100 Situations, Table One; 040: Argue.

_29th March, 2013._


	14. Misunderstood

When he used to be with the others, and they were all "The Generation of Miracles", every day was fun.

It was all fun and games and laughter.

Until it wasn't.

And now he is all alone, no longer seen as a hero, but a monster. No longer was he an idol, but an arrogant son of a bitch.

They don't understand anything about him.

She can't blame them. From what they have seen, he's an asshole, through and through. The king of the land of jerks. They don't know him and they don't want to, either, because what he shows them is grotesque aloofness and icy coldness. They have no sympathy to spare him because he hasn't a single damn to spare for them in turn.

They can't hear him, because they are not tuned in to listen. They can't hear his cries and desperate prayers, because they don't want to listen to anything he ever says—least of all what he _doesn't _say.

When he says, "The only one who can beat me, is me alone," what they hear is unparalleled arrogance and impossible confidence that transcends reason.

They sneer and glare at him, call him names and still grudgingly rely on him when they need his help, using him for the only thing they consider him good at.

Using him, because they want to have no attachments to him at all. He's not like them, they say; he's _different_. He's a monster, a miracle. So they better not get involved with him, unless they want to get themselves in deep trouble.

They use him and use him and use him, for as long as they wish.

They use him, because he uses them, too—so it's only fair.

Although Satsuki agrees that one should reap what one has sown, she is dismayed that no one ever hears the desperate plea of "Someone, give me something to strive for again" when he claims that _no one_ can win against him. No one hears, and both his sanity and the very essence of his being are already strongly slipping.

He's running out of time. He's driving himself up against a wall, the edge of which he cannot see. He's pushing himself closer and closer to a deep end, and she's afraid to think what will happen if he takes just one more stride into it.

Sometimes, she really hates them all.

She hates them because they look at him, they know that he's amazing and it becomes so easy for everyone to forget.

They forget that, even if what they want to see is a genius sportsman, a miracle in his own right, that's not what he is.

She hates them for forgetting that he's just a high-school boy, just like any other. Just like them.

She hates them because they forget that and they expect him to perform miracles, because they perceive him as one himself. She hates them because they make him push himself till he collapses; they make him believe that he's as invincible as they make him out to be.

He doesn't care what they think of him, but what he doesn't realize is that their unconditional trust in the fact he _will win_ is giving him all the push he needs in order to keep straining himself to the point that his body can no longer handle it.

She hates them all, the basketball team, the commentators, the people in the audience—she hates them all because she feels like she's the only one who can see that he's struggling, clawing against the boundaries his own body puts on him, and he pretends like he can overcome them just by simply being stubborn enough.

He pretends that overcoming his limits will make him even more unstoppable, when she knows that the only thing it will do is hurt him—physically and mentally.

She hates that they cheer for him, and he forgets. She hates that he tramples every single one of his opponents, standing victorious over them, and they all _forget_.

She wants to punch and slap all of them for this. She wants to, because she's so very afraid.

She's afraid, because they all forget that he's _not_, in fact, a miracle, no matter how much they want him to be—what he is, is a high school boy who has been in love with basketball for the longest time, giving his best for the sport he adores.

She's afraid, because even if his talent and desire for the game are miraculous, even if his body is seasoned for some of the strain he puts on it—his growth is too fast; his strength is too overwhelming; he's too much, too quick, too _soon_. He's too powerful, too extreme – his limbs can't handle it, and if he keeps pretending they can and keeps pushing…

She doesn't even want to think about that. A Daiki who couldn't play basketball was something she didn't want to imagine. Look at how warped constantly winning had made his character. Being unable to get on the court to begin with—being unable to _touch_ the ball – that would kill him.

She sometimes hates him, too, for believing their nonsense.

She hates him because she sometimes thinks—_dreads_—that he's doing it to himself on purpose.

He's losing sight of what's important. He's been so sad, so lost, so angry for so long that he's completely forgotten what the whole point to this used to be.

He knows best that his body, as he is, can't handle his tremendous talent.

Yet, in his frustration, in his _fear_ of becoming even more unreachable to the rest of them, he ditches practice all the time, refusing to allow himself to improve. He ditches practice with excuses, unwilling to take another leap, and thus successfully exposing his body to even greater dangers.

He skips practice, waves off her concern and acts as if he doesn't need the physical exertion—as though his body is perfectly capable of handling what he wants to do with it on the court, even if he doesn't exercise nearly often enough for that to be fact.

This is one of the main reasons why she can't let him be on his own. She is constantly vigilant, always at his side, making sure to do her utmost best to insure that he doesn't get himself into too deep a trouble.

She acts like his keeper, and sometimes, it's tiring. It's taxing on her mind, on her strength, on her patience—but she does it anyway, because she can't just leave him.

She can't, because if she leaves him, then he would really be left with no one to understand him. Then really _no one_ will be able to hear him anymore.

No one would care.

And he'd keep sinking—further and further, misunderstood, hated for something that wasn't his fault.

So, regardless of how tiring, how vexing and how trying it was, acting like Aomine-kun's keeper, it was a job she kept doing anyway.

Because, she believed as much—the Dai-chan she had known and adored was still in him somewhere. He was still there, fist slamming against the confines of hopelessness, bitterness and resignation, screaming to be let out into the world again.

Dai-chan, who could smile and crack innocent jokes at people just for the sake of making them laugh. Dai-chan, whose grin was easy and kind and just a bit mischievous (not twisted and scary and psychotic like the Aomine-kun now). Dai-chan, who had no agenda and who did not condescend others just because they were subpar to him on court. Dai-chan, who enjoyed a match of basketball just because it was the game he adored.

Dai-chan, who said what he meant and whom others did not misunderstand and loathe…

So Satsuki prayed the gods above for strength as she stood beside him—him, the one hated and revered above all else.

She stood beside him and prayed that he would find what he wanted—before his personality disintegrated completely, and he lost himself without a trace in the darkness that was enveloping him.

* * *

A/N: Some feels and thoughts I got while reading the manga after the anime's end. This is the kind of thoughts I started considering after I read how Daiki also wasn't in his best shape after that mind-numbingly awesome match with Kise. And, of course, Satsuki standing up for his well-being to the coach, despite knowing that he'd be displeased with her for meddling.

I hope this came across as intense and meaningful as I intended it. Character explorations of my most favourite character in this series are difficult~

100 Situations, Table One; 085: Hate.

_7__th__ April, 2013._


	15. Difference of Opinion

She sometimes wonders if people realize this when they look at them, hand in hand, smiling and making jokes together while they are meeting with their friends outside, but Daiki and Satsuki's life together isn't all sunshine and butterflies.

They're a couple and they love each other, yes; they live together now, and they've known each other their whole lives, yes. But that is by no means a reason why they would never fight. Like any other couple, of course they fight.

They're both still young, blood boiling in their veins, both a bit too opinionated and pig-headed, so of course sometimes their characters clash.

And, sometimes, those clashes are violent.

That happens when Satsuki refuses to compromise—because, let's face it, she is usually the one who is making compromises for him in this relationship.

Then again, it's not like she can entirely blame him for being so adamant and childish in arguments—she's the one who had been enabling his escapism and petulancy her whole life, so she guessed she was just as much at fault for his lack of desire to back down as he was.

Still, it's not like she is stubborn and argues with him over the little things. No—she only gets more insistent about the things that pertain to his well-being.

The only times their arguments get especially ugly and out of control is when they argue about something she thinks of as especially important and he brushes off, as though it's no reason for concern.

She hates it when he's being reckless at work, trying to be a hero. She hates it because it scares her—she's scared that one of those times he'll come up short and it will mean the end of his career, or, _worse_—dare she even think it—his _life_.

And she can't have that. She can't handle the thought of him dying. She can't handle the idea of being separated from him—they still had so many things they had promised to do together, so many places she wanted to see with him, so many obstacles they needed to overcome. She couldn't have him throwing all of that away because he refuses to take fewer risks and acts as though he's immortal when he's on the clock and chasing a criminal.

Whenever they fight in an ugly way, it's about crucial things.

And when they do, he has the most dreadful habit of hanging on her words, taking them out of context and twisting the meanings of them as he throws them back at her. If she says she's scared for his life, he lashes back violently, annoyed at the notion that she doesn't trust his skills in his profession.

And it boggles her mind how he can think that, because that's not at all what she's trying to say, and just _why did he refuse to just understand why this is so important to her_?!

This is how they fought when neither of them refused to back down. Those arguments were rare, of course, but they did happen every once in a while.

When they did, both Daiki and Satsuki stormed off in opposite direction of each other, glaring, cursing, and seething, still very much adamant in their position as the right one in that argument and thus refusing to back down.

Whenever that happened, once she was alone in their bedroom, crying tears of frustration and rage after she heard the front door slamming shut after a very furious Daiki, Satsuki got scared.

They had only been living together for a little over a year, and already they were fighting like this. Worse yet, she sometimes failed to see an exit to their stalemates, because if she relented and apologized to him for fighting with him, that would mean that he would continue being as reckless in the future, too, and then—She didn't want to think in that way.

She didn't want to fight like this with him either. She didn't like it because she knew him very well, and was very aware of how short his fuse was.

At home, Daiki was usually very laid back and relaxed, but whenever they got in an argument like that, he was always the one getting incredibly riled up and he spared no effort in antagonizing her in the worst possible ways.

She got scared because even though they had known each other their whole lives, and they had been dating for a while now, she feared that living together like this, and fighting like that would make him think—rather short-sighted and childish as he was—that this relationship was no longer worth his time or effort, that the cons outweighed the pros, and that it was time to stop trying, because he was tired of this, tired of their arguments and tired of this relationship that did nothing but put him down in moments like these.

And the longer it took him to cool his head off and come back, the deeper the hole Satsuki dug herself into. Because the longer he was gone, the more convinced she became that they wouldn't come out of this unscathed and that he would definitely want to separate with her.

He always came back the same evening—sometimes sooner, sometimes later—still pouting and not exactly at peace with the situation – but he came back to her.

And sometimes, just sometimes, he was the first to apologize for getting so fed up with her arguments, for storming off like that, for being a jerk but why couldn't she realize that her trust in him was especially important to him, damn it?!

Whenever something like that happened, Satsuki was always throwing her arms around him before he can even realize it. She's hugging him, bawling her eyes out and apologizing for yelling so much at him—saying sorry over and over again, because she didn't want him to tire of her and leave her behind like this. She didn't want him to one day go out that door on an argument and never come back. She didn't want that, and she hated the thought of it, and yet it was stuck in her mind like a disease, showing itself to her over and over again.

When she clings to him like that, pulling him down by his neck to kiss his lips, his cheeks, his forehead, his jaw, his neck, Daiki is usually taken aback by the ardour of her gestures, of the urgency of her kisses. It's not like her to be so uncharacteristically bold and emotional about just a kiss, so he holds her tight while she trembles in his embrace.

And while he does, he feels the most repentant. He can feel her worry and anxiety emanating off of her in waves, and he is sorry he ever left her on her own like that. He's sorry he ever got into that fight with her, because now it seems petty and unimportant, even though he still maintains that he was right to insist on his point.

But no matter how right he was, it doesn't justify making his beloved feel like this.

So he held her tightly, pressing her up against his much larger body until it felt like he would engulf her whole as she sunk into his embrace. He hugged her tight and whispered apologies and sweet nothings into the shell of her ear, into her hair as he smoothed in back with his fingers, into the skin of her neck as he rained kisses on the column of her throat.

Aomine Daiki was a man of many flaws and few apologies for them, but in situations like these he was not beyond saying sorry, over and over again, solidifying his point by pressing kisses against her heated skin between every word, hoping that soon she would stop trembling, stop worrying, stop crying, because he wasn't going anywhere, and there was no place he'd rather be than there with her, and _please, calm down, Satsuki—I'm sorry, okay, forgive me, shush, it's all right, I'm here now_.

When she clutched on to him for dear life like that, refusing to pry herself away from him—for fear of him going off somewhere again—there was no way he could say no to her. There's no way he can be the one to pull away when she kept touching him like that, holding on to him as though she could sink into him, pressing up into him as though if she tried hard enough, they could merge into a single being.

And when she did that, it was hard not to start relieving her of the burdensome clothes that got in the way of their contact, barred him from feeling the delicious pressure of her smooth skin against his.

Their ugly fights were always accompanied by passionate, emotional lovemaking.

And although it would take a while for them to truly work out the kinks of the reasons behind their fights, and Daiki hated getting into these ugly arguments with her to begin with, the making up process was definitely worth the trouble of admitting he may have been over the line.

Once, she even told him why she was always so needy and clingy whenever he came back to their place after an especially violent fight. She told him as her cheek lay on his bare chest after they were both spent from their bedding activities just a few minutes prior, and their laboured breathing was returning to normal while he rubbed circles into the expanse of her beautiful bare back where she was lying against him.

She told him of her fears and insecurities, of how his leaving made her feel, how their fights worried her, and he couldn't hold back an incredulous chuckle and a shake of his head.

He leaned down to kiss her lips, which had just spoken the most ridiculous things he had heard in life, and he told her she was an idiot.

She bristled slightly and demanded what in the world he meant, but instead of getting up to her challenge, he kept her pressed even more firmly against his frame—enjoying the feel of her soft breasts against his side, and the feeling of the gentle rise and fall of her chest next to him.

He kept her there and told her she was idiot for believing that she was the only one who couldn't live without the other. And she was silly to think that some argument, no matter how important, would be all it would take to get him away from her.

It would be unrealistic to believe that after expressing their feelings about the matter to one another would lead to them no longer having fights like that. Because reality didn't work that way, and people were emotional, tempers easily flaring, even when they try to understand one another.

What it meant, however, is that even when they were having a severe difference of opinion, Satsuki no longer feared for the wholeness of their bond after this. Disagreeing no longer seemed like a threat for their relationship, and although fighting was something neither of them enjoyed, it did help keep her sanity intact whenever he stormed off to cool his head after their most unpleasant arguments.

* * *

A/N: An expansion on one of the 1 Sentence prompts (that I have yet to post, since I have yet to complete them) that I am currently working on. I liked it, so I ended up looking into it more seriously. Ugh. I SHOULD BE STUDYING RIGHT NOW. SERIOUSLY, FUCK ME. ;-; I'm the biggest procrastinator of all. *cries pitifully*

Well, I hope you like, anyway. I liked the notion, and then I realized, around the end part, that this seems very, very reminiscent of Pidgeon's take on it. And I feel a bit weird, but I don't think I can really be blamed because this woman fills my head with headcanons with every single thing she writes, so if it's anyone's fault, blame her, okay? PIDGEON, THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT, WOMAN.

Okay, enough insanity. STUDY NOW. ;A;

100 Situations, Table One; 040: Argue.

_9__th__ April, 2013._


End file.
